


Implications

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-01
Updated: 2009-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-15 22:32:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8075365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: What happened to the crew in the days after they were thrown back in time during the E2 timeline? This means T'Pol & Trip get married, Archer eventually hooks up with an alien and Malcolm gets his heart broken.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Rating: PG-13
> 
> Disclaimer: All is owned by paramount. This is just for fun.

The stars were still in the wrong place. No matter how often Jonathan Archer examined the readings on his console, that didnâ€™t change. No matter how often he looked out the window, that didnâ€™t change. Now, he could only hope that Tâ€™Pol would find a way back through the corridor and back to their own time.

They had been at dead stop for nearly a week, and Jon could also only hope that the week had only passed in their time. Tâ€™Pol would need to get them back to their own time before the rendezvous with Degra, which if time was passing in the same way, was days passed. But couldnâ€™t the corridor take them back to the point in space/time where they left? Or would it be a week later? Or some other time? Or place?

Jon felt the beginning of a headache. He even wished Daniels would show up to help him understand all this and hopefully help them get back to their own time.

But hope was fading. Tâ€™Pol had never been enthusiastic about solutions to their dilemma, and lately she was getting positively grim about it. The corridor appeared to go one way only.

On the bright side, however, this time had given the crew a chance to make much needed repairs and even rest a bit. They had even had movie night, where they watched an ironic choice. "H.G. Wellsâ€™s The Time Machine". 

Moreover, for the first time since they entered the Expanse, the ship felt quiet.

Jon closed his eyes and tried to imagine Earth. Not the one he knew, but the one that existed at this point in time. World War III was raging, and billions were already dead. The whole planet had been torn apart by hate and greed and suspicion. Not only would they corrupt the timeline if they returned, they would likely be reviled. Tâ€™Pol had suggested returning instead to Vulcan, but since the science directorate rejected the notion of time travel, they would likely not be believed. Nor did Archer think his crew of humans would wish to live out their days as objects of curiosity on Vulcan.

The chime rang.

â€œCome in.â€

Tâ€™Pol came in, carrying a PADD as usual. She was wearing the blue Vulcan uniform today.

â€œI have been unable to come up with a solution, Captain,â€ she said.

Jon inhaled deeply. It wasnâ€™t a surprise, but he still felt his stomach turning over.

â€œMaybe we can use this to our advantage,â€ he said. â€œWe know the exact date and time of the first Xindi probeâ€™s attack. . .we could wait until then and find a way to warn Earth.â€

Tâ€™Pol did not react.

â€œIâ€™ve thought of two options,â€ said Jon, â€œOne - we could try and put ourselves in stasis and have ourselves revived somehow right before the attack. But Iâ€™m not sure that would work. Weâ€™d be vulnerable and thereâ€™s no guarantee it would would work.â€

â€œWhatâ€™s the other solution?â€ asked Tâ€™Pol.

â€œWe can start having babies,â€ said Jon.

Tâ€™Pol raised an eyebrow.

â€œI mean, the crew can start having babies. All of us,â€ said Jon, â€œIâ€™ve heard of generational ships. Hell, Travis is a product of a generational ship. It can happen. Weâ€™ll stay in the Expanse - learn everything we can about the Xindi and our descendants will stop them from attacking Earth.â€

Jon stared out the window. Tâ€™Pol placed the PADD down on the desk and joined him. She clasped her hands behind her back so he would not see her trembling.

â€œIt is the more practical solution. Stasis would be risky, even if we could find the technology. But we will need to obtain fuel and supplies here in the Expanse. Perhaps we could find a Minshara class planet and settle there?â€

Jon shook his head.

â€œWeâ€™re still on a mission, and we need to survive but we also need to find everything we can about the Xindi. Weâ€™re still here on a mission.â€

Tâ€™Pol nodded. He was being logical, as logical as he could in a highly illogical situation.

â€œIâ€™ll call a meeting of the senior officers first and explain to them. Then Iâ€™ll tell the rest of the crew tonight. I donâ€™t think it will come as much of a surprise. Iâ€™m guessing everyone already knows.â€

Tâ€™Pol took a deep breath. Jon glanced at her. The Expanse had been hard on everyone, but the change in Tâ€™Pol had been acute. He heard slivers of emotion on her voice from time to time. And she looked tired. Maybe all this time among humans was affecting her emotional control. Maybe she needed to get home to Vulcan and be with her own people for awhile. Of course, that was impossible. Tâ€™Pol would be spending the rest of her life among humans. . .her long Vulcan life.

â€œTâ€™Pol,â€ said Jon hesitantly, â€œI know this a personal question, but given Vulcans long life span, do you think youâ€™ll be alive when the Xindi probe is launched?â€

Tâ€™Pol looked her captain straight in the eye.

â€œIt is possible. I would be elderly.â€

â€œIn any case, you are going to be vital to this ship and this mission more than ever.â€

Tâ€™Pol nodded.

â€œI need you to call the command crew together. Itâ€™s time to start looking forward.â€

â€œYes sir,â€ said Tâ€™Pol and she exited.

This was going to be hard on everyone, thought Jon, but especially on Tâ€™Pol and Phlox. At least his human crew would be exiled among their own kind, on a ship based on their own culture. But for the two aliens on his ship, their exile would be far more drastic. Phlox seemed well-adjusted enough, but he also had a family back on Denobula. He would never see any of his wives or children again. Jon couldnâ€™t imagine what that would be like for him.

But Phlox would have to adjust. So would Tâ€™Pol and everyone on the ship. He would make certain of it. Their mission was the same, and it had just been extended. If they were to survive, they would need to focus on that.

*****

The meeting with the bridge officers went as well as to be expected. Jon did his best to keep them focused on practical matters, so as not to let them panic or fall into despair. There would be plenty of time to acclimate to this new order. He ordered Travis to begin a survey of all the nearby systems and identify any potential places to find supplies or Xindi settlements. He ordered Trip to continue repairs on the engines and other systems, and Malcolm to repair and upgrade weapons. Tâ€™Pol was to anticipate long term needs for space and equipment. For now, it would almost be like nothing had changed, except the pace of their journey.

â€œTravis,â€ said Jon, â€œSet a course into the Expanse. Warp 2. Itâ€™s not like weâ€™re in a hurry.â€

After he dismissed everyone, Trip hung back.

â€œHow are you holding up?â€ Jon asked.

â€œI was about to ask you the same,â€ he said. Trip looked even more exhausted than Tâ€™Pol. Things had been chaotic in engineering.

â€œIt hasnâ€™t hit me yet,â€ said Jon, â€œItâ€™s no different than when we were back in our own time. Except for the sinking feeling. . .â€œ

â€œI had started thinking about this mission as going only one way,â€ said Trip, â€œBut this isnâ€™t what I had in mind.â€

Jon clasped his friend on the back. Jon hadnâ€™t anyone but an old girlfriend or two back on Earth. Everyone else he loved was on Enterprise. But Trip had parents and a brother and a nephew.

â€œYou know whatâ€™s funny?â€ said Jon, â€œEventually, over a hundred years from now, Starfleet will learn what happened to all of us. Our families will know why we disappeared.â€

Trip paused.

â€œWhat if our descendants show up and stop the Xindi attack and then weâ€™re never sent into the Expanse? What then?â€

Jon felt the headache retuning.

â€œWe canâ€™t worry about that. We, and I imagine the rest of the crew, will go crazy if we do. Weâ€™ve got a keep focused on the mission. The timeline will sort itself out. How is your crew?â€

â€œIâ€™m trying to keep them focused, but itâ€™s hard. One, weâ€™re suddenly not in immediate danger of being blown out of space. Two, theyâ€™ve all got a long time to think about being stuck in the Expanse for the rest of their lives.â€

Jon gazed down at the PADD in front of him with Tâ€™Polâ€™s data. He spent one more moment trying to figure a way out. He even hoped Daniels would show up.

â€œI havenâ€™t told them yet, officially.â€

â€œBut they know, sir. They know.â€

Jon nodded. Of course, everyone knew. There were no secrets on the ship.

*****

Jon left the cargo bay as soon as he dismissed the crew and headed back up to the bridge, where Hoshi had stayed in case something came up. She was still the only person on the bridge when he arrived.

â€œHi Captain,â€ she said with a smile, â€œYou did great. I listened to the speech from here.â€

Jon sighed and took his seat in the captainâ€™s chair.

â€œAnything interesting happening?â€ asked the captain.

Hoshi shook her head.

â€œOnly in that it isnâ€™t that interesting. Iâ€™m guessing that the Spheres havenâ€™t had such a profound effect on this part of the Expanse yet. There are far fewer anomalies than there were.â€

â€œAt least, thatâ€™s some good news.â€

Jon searched Hoshiâ€™s face. If anything, it appeared serene. More serene than Tâ€™Pol, but perhaps Hoshi was just better at accepting their situation than the others.

â€œHow are you?â€ he asked. From his tone, Hoshi recognized that he wasnâ€™t asking his comm officer. He was asking his friend.

Hoshi adjusted the comm for a moment, as if she was trying to work out her own thoughts.

â€œBetter than I thought I would be. I just keep thinking, we might have a chance to stop the first Xindi attack. Thatâ€™s more than we ever expected to be able to do on this mission. Whenever I feel panic or sadness coming on. . .I just remind myself of that. Besides, even though Iâ€™ve lost a lot, it isnâ€™t as though my life isnâ€™t on Enterprise. I didnâ€™t expect my whole life to be on Enterprise, but Iâ€™m alive and still have plenty of time ahead of me.â€

Jon smiled for the first time in as long as he remembered. Hoshi was right. Their lives hadnâ€™t ended, their lives had just changed. It was his job to help the whole crew understand that, and remember the seven million lives they would all save.

****

Malcolm hurried into the mess hall and ordered himself some coffee. It was fairly empty, except for Tâ€™Pol in the corner. She wasnâ€™t examining a PADD as was her habit, but reading a paper book. From his vantage, Malcolm saw that it was in Vulcan. It occurred to him that she would never speak to another native speaker of her own language again. Vulcans in this period hadnâ€™t even begun to explore near the Expanse.

He approached her.

â€œMay I sit down, Commander?â€

Tâ€™Pol nodded.

â€œWhat are you reading?â€ asked Malcolm.

â€œThe Teachings of Surak,â€ replied Tâ€™Pol.

â€œI read some of that in translation. I had to take an alien literature class at school. . .it was very interesting.â€

Tâ€™Pol raised her eyebrow. Malcolm could have kicked himself. Calling Surak interesting was, to a Vulcan, akin to calling Shakespeare entertaining. It was insulting in its understatement.

â€œI find in times of crisis, Surak has much to teach,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, â€œHow are you. . .doing?â€

Tâ€™Pol had spent enough time among humans to know that they liked being questioned about their feelings. Malcolm may have been the most Vulcan-like of all her colleagues, but even he was not immune to this quality of humans. In difficult times, they wanted to be asked how they felt.

â€œFine, I guess. . .â€ replied Malcolm, â€œI suppose Iâ€™ve not allowed myself to think about the future. But I then again, all we have now is the future. Itâ€™s odd to think that within a year there will likely be babies being born. . . and soon after that children running about the ship. . .itâ€™s difficult to imagine.â€

â€œVulcans donâ€™t imagine,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, â€œThough the Captain has asked me to anticipate potential new uses of space. I will suggest that eventually one of the larger labs on deck 4 could be turned into a school.â€

Malcolm glanced down at Tâ€™Polâ€™s elegant hands and then, without thinking, up to her chest. He hoped she hadnâ€™t noticed, especially since Malcolm knew that it was unlikely Tâ€™Pol would ever consider him a potential partner. Not if the rumors about her and Trip were true. Malcolm had heard that Tâ€™Pol had reacted quite jealously to Tripâ€™s flirtation with the female MACO, and that Trip had stopped socializing with Amanda as a result. As far as Malcolm was concerned, that could only mean one thing, though Trip certainly wasnâ€™t talking. His earlier denials had suspiciously ceased.

â€œHowâ€™s Trip handling all this? Iâ€™ve hardly seen him this week. Iâ€™ve been busy with the weapons systems and heâ€™s been busy in engineering.â€

Tâ€™Pol blinked at Malcolm. She was aware of the human habit of asking about other humans feelings - as opposed to asking the person directly, but it never failed to make her uncomfortable. It was bad enough when someone asked her about herself. Besides that, Malcolmâ€™s question seemed to imply that she would have some special knowledge of Commander Tuckerâ€™s feelings.

â€œHe seems very focused on the engines, as he should be,â€ said Tâ€™Pol. Over the years, she had become somewhat proud of her ability to deflect human prying. Another technique, she learned was to ask a question in response to one. It took her a moment, but she thought of one.

â€œHave you thought of which female among the crew you might take as a mate?â€ asked Tâ€™Pol.

Malcolm nearly choked on his coffee. That was the last question he expected from a Vulcan.

â€œItâ€™s only logical to think about it. You are a strong and capable member of this crew, and your genes would contribute greatly to the next generation. This afternoon I overheard several females discussing potential choices for mates . . .â€

â€œDid my name come up?â€ asked Malcolm before he realized what he had blurted out.

â€œNo,â€ said Tâ€™Pol simply, â€œThey were focused on more junior members of the crew. However, I expect the captain will relax the rules against senior officers fraternizing with junior officers. If not, your options will be quite limited.â€

Malcolm smirked. Apparently, Tâ€™Pol was more imaginative than she gave herself credit. Someone was going to have to make the children to fill the school she was designing and everyone on board knew it. He leaned over and looked the Vulcan straight in the eye.

â€œIf the captain doesnâ€™t lift the rules, my only options are Hoshi...and you, Commander,â€ said Malcolm, who could barely believe he had started teasing the Vulcan.

Tâ€™Polâ€™s faced showed no reaction.

â€œEnsign Sato is an attractive woman,â€ she said, â€œAnd highly academically gifted.â€

â€œShe is that,â€ said Malcolm, â€œAnd since you're off the market, I might just have to ask Hoshi out for coffee. . .â€

â€œVulcans and Humans have never mated successfully,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, â€œSo it is unlikely I will mate with anyone. . .â€ Tâ€™Pol paused, â€œBut thatâ€™s not what you meant by â€˜off the market.â€™â€

â€œNo,â€ said Malcolm, â€œYou see, thereâ€™s a code among human males. We donâ€™t chase after our friendsâ€™ girlfriends. It just isnâ€™t done. And Trip is my friend. . .â€

â€œI am not Commander Tuckerâ€™s girl friend,â€ said Tâ€™Pol.

Truth be told, however, she was vividly remembering their recent sexual encounter.

Malcolm heard a slight edge in her voice and knew he hit a nerve. It couldnâ€™t be easy for her, he thought. It was hard enough being an Englishman on a ship with mostly Americans. Being a Vulcan and constantly questioned about oneâ€™s feelings must be terribly awkward for her. On the other hand, if she didnâ€™t step up soon, she might just spend the rest of her long life alone. Even Vulcans werenâ€™t meant to do that.

â€œMaybe not,â€ said Malcolm, â€œBut ask yourself this, do you want him mating with any of the other women on this ship? No, donâ€™t answer. . .I donâ€™t need to know. You need to know the answer to that question. And you need to tell Trip and soon.â€

The words came out before Malcolm even thought to withhold them. Their peculiar situation had changed him. It had changed everything.

For her part, Tâ€™Pol thought of deflecting or denying yet again, but she didnâ€™t. Malcolm was correct. Trip wouldnâ€™t wait for her, not under the new circumstances. She did not like the idea of him mating with another female. Though interspecies mating was illogical and difficult, it had suddenly become her only option.

But was Trip her only option? She looked at Malcolm. She couldnâ€™t imagine taking him as a mate, despite the fact that his English reserve was far more Vulcan than Tripâ€™s Southern effusiveness. She thought of Phlox, as it would be logical to pair off with the only other alien on the ship. They did have that in common. She remembered the grace with which he hand handled her premature Pon Farr. Of course, he also revealed then that he wasnâ€™t attracted to her. Tâ€™Polâ€™s mind wandered to Major Hayes of the MACOs. He was a strong man of appropriate age, but he was not a great intellect. They would have nothing in common. Then, Tâ€™Pol thought of the captain and paused...they were close and had a great deal of affection for one another. He was a handsome and capable man, and Tâ€™Pol knew that he was attracted to her. It made sense. It was logical. Except that Tâ€™Pol couldnâ€™t imagine taking the captain as a mate because she could only imagine taking Trip as one.

Perhaps Vulcans were more imaginative than she admitted even to herself.

She tried to picture cohabiting with Trip. He was not logical. Not at all. He couldnâ€™t even talk about the warp engines without getting passionate. He laughed and made jokes all the time. He was charming, emotional. Un-Vulcan.

But to her shock, Tâ€™Pol realized that she didnâ€™t want Trip despite his utter and complete infuriating humanness. She wanted him because of it. She had even come to enjoy the way he smelled.

â€œCommander, are you all right?â€ asked Malcolm, who was intently trying to read Tâ€™Polâ€™s face, â€œI didnâ€™t mean to speak of things that arenâ€™t my business...but then again I suppose everyoneâ€™s business is suddenly everyone elseâ€™s now.â€

â€œItâ€™s all right, lieutenant,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, who had begun to formulate a plan in her head.

The Vulcan stood up.

â€œYou should get some rest,â€ she said, â€œWe have more time now. I think we could all use rest.â€

With that, Tâ€™Pol disappeared from the mess hall and Malcolm was left both envying his friend Trip and worrying for him. Most human women didnâ€™t know when to stop expressing their feelings, but surely too much emotion would be easier to deal with than loving a woman culturally prohibited from expressing feelings.

Malcolmâ€™s mind wandered to Hoshi, whom he had see dining with four strapping MACOs the day before. Surely someone would snap her up soon, thought Malcolm. If he did want to pursue her, he would need to move soon. But would that be fair, he thought? Especially since he was not in love with her. Not yet, anyway. But he could imagine falling in love with her. Wasnâ€™t that the same thing?

The last vestiges of Malcolmâ€™s coffee were ice cold, and frankly the caffeine was no longer keeping him awake. He decided to head back to his quarters, where he soon found himself in a dreamless sleep.

****

The next afternoon, Tâ€™Pol sat on a biobed as Phlox examined her. His animals appeared more active than ever, twittering and jabbering in their various cages. But there were no other patients in sickbay. It felt strange, since the Xindi mission had started sickbay was usually one of the more crowded areas of the ship. But no longer.

â€œYou must be honest with me, Commander. Have you taken any Trellium-D lately?â€

Tâ€™Pol reached up an rubbed her temple.

â€œNo.â€

â€œHave you been tempted?â€

â€œNo.â€ She answered truthfully. She wanted nothing more to do with that substance, â€œBut my emotional control has not fully returned.â€

Phlox walked over to one of his many cages and tended to a squawking creature.

â€œWe discussed that. It will take a great deal of time to heal, and even then it is possible you will not regain full control,â€ Phlox paused and then continued, â€œBut have you ever thought that this terrible situation we have found ourselves in might benefit you?â€

Tâ€™Pol did not respond. Phlox continued.

â€œYou see, among Vulcans, your emotions would be immediately recognized. You would very likely become an outcast among your own people...now, donâ€™t deny it. Thereâ€™s much to recommend Vulcan culture, but they are not known for their tolerance of those among them who cannot control their emotions. However, it is unlikely most humans would ever even notice your emotional. . .lapses. You would appear as Vulcan as ever to them. Unless of course you became very close to one of them. But in any case, our situation here in the Expanse has prevented you from becoming an outcast among your people by forcing you to live among humans who are for the most part incapable of seeing anything unusual about you. It may not be ideal, but itâ€™s one way of looking at the situation.â€

Phlox knew better than expect a response from his Vulcan patient.

â€œOtherwise, you continue to respond to the medication Iâ€™ve been giving you for the Paâ€™Nar Syndrome and you seem in excellent health.â€

Tâ€™Pol got down from the bio bed and walked over to a display screen on the far wall. It appeared to be the Denobulan genome.

â€œThank you, Doctor,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, suddenly feeling as though she had violated Phloxâ€™s privacy.

â€œYour welcome. And Iâ€™ve something else to discuss with you,â€ said Phlox. He walked over to her, seemingly un-offended.

â€œYou see, Iâ€™ve been researching whether or not you or I would be able to contribute to the next generation of this ship.â€

Phlox lit a second screen and revealed the Vulcan genome. Specifically, her Vulcan genome. Tâ€™Pol examined it, as well as some notes the doctor had made.

â€œAre you interested in hearing about my findings?â€

Tâ€™Pol looked positively uncomfortable, but still interested. She nodded.

â€œA Vulcan/Human hybrid might have a significantly longer life span than a pure human. That child might serve to bridge the gap between generations. It would be a logical addition to the shipâ€™s population,â€ she said in a rather small voice.

â€œMy thoughts exactly,â€ said Phlox, â€œand as you can see, it would only take a little bit of doing on my part. May I ask if you are expecting your Vulcan mating cycle soon?â€

Tâ€™Pol appeared absolutely mortified. Phlox continued as though he didnâ€™t notice.

â€œI think the process would go smoother during your natural mating cycle, though we could induce one without too much trouble...but really all it would take is one hypospray a few days before your cycle kicks in and we could avoid a more invasive in-vitro procedure.â€

â€œVulcan womenâ€™s Pon Farr cycles are usually tied in with their mates. But since I am unbonded, one is likely to occur on its own within a year,â€ said Tâ€™Pol.

â€œAh, well then, you have a big decision to make...â€ said Phlox.

â€œYes,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, â€œThe decision to have a child under such unusual circumstances is a serious one - worthy of much consideration.â€

â€œOh my dear,â€ said Phlox, â€œI thought you had made that decision. I was referring to who will be the father of the first human/Vulcan hybrid.â€

Tâ€™Pol again looked mortified. Phlox continued.

â€œThe whole ship thinks you are romantically involved with Commander Tucker,â€ said Phlox, â€œBut there are other options...the captain for instance...â€

Tâ€™Pol headed straight for the door. She turned, her face again a mask.

â€œThank you, doctor,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, â€œI shall consider everything you have said.â€

With that, the Vulcan headed out of sick bay. On the way in, the MACO called Amanda passed by on her way to see Phlox. She smiled at Tâ€™Pol.

â€œHello Commander,â€ she said.

Her face remained serene as she passed by and nodded. Tâ€™Pol thought of telling Amanda just how jealous Vulcan women could be about their bonded mates - though it wasnâ€™t usually something Vulcans ever discussed with outsiders. They rarely even discussed it among themselves. Itâ€™s just that everyone knew.

Tâ€™Pol heard Amanda laugh quite loudly from sickbay. It was a more irritating laugh than most humans, she thought. Tripâ€™s laugh wasnâ€™t nearly so grating. It was pleasant to hear thought Tâ€™Pol as she headed up toward the bridge.

****

â€œTâ€™Pol, may I see you in my ready room?â€ said Jon.

Tâ€™Pol nodded and followed her captain into the ready room. She smelled Porthos immediately and saw the dog curled up under the captainâ€™s desk.

â€œHow is the crew? In your opinion?â€ he asked.

â€œIâ€™m not the best judge,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, â€œbut I sense a lack of emotion among the crew. Itâ€™s odd. People had a higher level of anxiety before we became trapped here. . .â€

â€œI suppose the lack of urgency is a kind of relief,â€ said Jon.

â€œPhlox indicated to me this morning that there is very little sickness or injury among the crew,â€ said Tâ€™Pol.

â€œThatâ€™s one good thing,â€ said Jon, â€œIâ€™ve asked Trip to compile a list of suggestions for prolonging the life of key systems. Ensign Baker says that the hydroponic garden is as healthy as ever and can be expanded if sheâ€™s given more room. Hoshi thinks sheâ€™s found a planet nearby where we might be able to trade for some supplies. . .it almost feels like the first year of our mission. Suddenly, I feel like an explorer rather than an warrior. . .â€

Porthos lifted his head up and Jon reached down and patted him.

â€œThe nice thing about dogs is that they only worry about the right now,â€ said Jon, â€œThey keep you grounded in the moment. They donâ€™t let you worry too much about tomorrow or yesterday.â€

â€œWhen will we reach this planet, sir?â€

â€œThree days,â€ said Jon, â€œAnd I can tell you Iâ€™m looking forward to getting some fresh air. If the planet proves hospitable, Iâ€™m thinking we can stay in orbit for awhile so everyone on board can have some time on surface. R&R has been mostly absent these last few months. I think everyone is long overdue.â€

â€œIâ€™ll put together a schedule,â€ said Tâ€™Pol.

*****

Two days later, Hoshi rounded the corner just outside her quarters and nearly tripped when she saw Travis and a young woman in each otherâ€™s arms. She was a blond MACO and very pretty. They were kissing so enthusiastically that they didnâ€™t notice that they were no longer alone.

Hoshi cleared her throat.

â€œHi Hoshi,â€ said Travis cheerfully, â€œHow are you?â€

â€œNot as good as you,â€ she said, â€œCarry on.â€

Damn, thought Hoshi, Travis sure didnâ€™t waste any time as she continued down the hallway and into the gym. There she found Trip running on the treadmill.

â€œHi Hoshi,â€ he said breathlessly.

She climbed up on the treadmill next to him.

â€œI hear youâ€™re going with us on the first away mission to the planet,â€ said Hoshi,

â€œThatâ€™s right,â€ said Trip, â€œIt feels like old times. Now that the warp engine isnâ€™t fried, I can see if theyâ€™ve got anything we could use on the surface. I hear its going to be the captain, Malcolm, you and me going down first.â€

â€œYes,â€ said Hoshi, â€œTâ€™Polâ€™s going to hold down the fort up here.â€

Hoshi glanced over at Trip to see if his expression changed at all at the mention of Tâ€™Polâ€™s name. The whole ship thought they were involved, though they were both doing their damnedest to try and keep it a secret. Why they would continue to do so at this point, she didnâ€™t know.

â€œHow are you holding up?â€ she asked. â€œYou know, with the never going to see Earth again, stuck back in time on the ship thing.â€

Trip laughed out loud.

â€œI suppose it hasnâ€™t really hit me yet. Itâ€™s not like if we hadnâ€™t gone through the corridor, weâ€™d be back home. Things havenâ€™t changed much. Theyâ€™ve just slowed down. And frankly, I was beginning to believe we werenâ€™t ever going to get back to Earth. So I guess this is a preferable outcome that what I was thinking. How about you?â€

Hoshi slowed down her run to a walk.

â€œIâ€™ve been thinking about my family,â€ said Hoshi, â€œbut Iâ€™m surprised at how little Iâ€™m worried. I guess because I feel like in a hundred or so years someone is going to tell them that I got to live a long, happy life flying around the Expanse. Does that make sense?â€

Trip slowed down to a walk as well.

â€œYou know, itâ€™s funny, Iâ€™ve been thinking about Elizabeth. Not only hasnâ€™t she been born yet - she hasnâ€™t died yet. Our descendants might save her life. It kinda lifts the veil of grief. . .â€

â€œOnly in the Expanse,â€ said Hoshi quietly, â€œBy the way, I just saw Travis and some MACO in the hallway. They looked about ready to get started on one of those descendants, if you know what I mean.â€

â€œGood for Travis. . .was she cute?â€

Hoshi shrugged, â€œI think so. I didnâ€™t get a good look at her. But yeah, I think sheâ€™s worthy of Travis.â€

â€œItâ€™s hard to believe,â€ sighed Trip, â€œThat there will be children on this ship before we know it. Little Travises running around. I think Iâ€™ll like that. . .it will cheer the place up.â€

â€œWhat about you?â€ asked Hoshi, â€œAnd thoughts on a Charles Tucker IV?â€

Trip stopped walking and caught Hoshiâ€™s eye. Was she suggesting herself as the mother of the Fourth?

â€œDonâ€™t flatter yourself, Commander. I was just wondering if you think thereâ€™s a possibility that Charles Tucker IV will have pointed ears?â€

Trip stuttered a little, then was silent. Trip knew all about the gossip, but that didnâ€™t make it any easier to respond.

â€œIâ€™ll take that as a maybe,â€ said Hoshi.

â€œItâ€™s not that simple,â€ said Trip, â€œDating a Vulcan is hard enough...I canâ€™t imagine what it would be like to be married to one.â€

Hoshi laughed. Normally, she would have left it at that, but the new circumstances had made her bolder about butting into other peopleâ€™s business.

â€œWell, then maybe you should picture yourself NOT married to Tâ€™Pol. And Tâ€™Pol married to someone else. How does that make you feel?â€

Trip stuttered some more.

â€œAll Iâ€™m saying is that none of us are in a position to dither around any more. The survival of Earth depends on all of us... including you and Commander Tâ€™Pol . . .getting over ourselves. Interspecies relationships may be hard. But Iâ€™ll wager the next fifty years of your life will be much harder without Tâ€™Pol than with her.â€

Trip nodded.

â€œBut can I give you a piece of advice?â€ asked Hoshi. â€œIâ€™ve studied Vulcan since I was a child. And that also means studying Vulcans. It should go without saying, that they donâ€™t talk about their feelings. Ever. If you try and get her to admit that she cares for you, itâ€™s going to be a disaster. If you think she she cares for you, watch her actions. Vulcans show affection. They donâ€™t ever verbalize it.â€

â€œIâ€™ll take that under advisement,â€ said Trip.

****

The night before he was to leave with the away team, Trip decided to ring at Tâ€™Polâ€™s door. The last time he had visited her for neural pressure hadnâ€™t gone well, but that was before the corridor. BC, before the corridor. Everything was now divided between before and after.

â€œCome in, Commanderâ€ she said.

She was on the floor, legs crossed in front of one of her many candles. She was wearing the red pajamas, which he hadnâ€™t seen in weeks. They were his favorite.

Trip walked around and sat down on the other side of the candle.

â€œHow are you?â€ he said.

Dammit, he thought of Hoshiâ€™s good advice too late.

â€œI mean. ..thatâ€™s what I mean, how are you?â€

Tâ€™Pol opened her eyes. Part of her still wanted to fight the emotions that his presence inspired in her. It was pure Vulcan instinct to do so. But that would be illogical given their circumstances. Her life was among humans, now, and though she could never fully become human - she knew that she must make adjustments.

â€œUnder the circumstances, I am holding up well,â€ she said.

â€œGlad to hear it,â€ he said, â€œYou seem better than you were the last time I saw you. Are you up for a little neural pressure? I sure could use some. . .â€

Tâ€™Pol caught his eyes. She had made a decision to try something - an experiment, that if it was successful, it would have even more implications for them than their sexual relations.

â€œI want to try something else,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, â€œTake my hand.â€

Without hesitation, Trip placed his hand in hers.

â€œClose your eyes,â€ she said.

He obeyed and suddenly he felt awash in serenity - he felt at peace, no longer alone. He felt loved.

_Whoa, I didnâ€™t see that coming._

So far, so good. Tâ€™Pol knew that humans could form light telepathic links with Vulcans, but she had never heard of a human and a Vulcan forming a mating bond. She didnâ€™t even know if they could - but as her mind connected deeper and deeper with Tripâ€™s - she thought it might just be possible to bond with him. Gently, she pulled back.

â€œWow,â€ he said. He opened his mouth to speak again but found there was nothing that needed to be said. He knew she loved him. He also knew that for a Vulcan, that was not an easy thing to deal with.

Tâ€™Pol looked into his eyes, and he kissed her.

She knew he wanted to stay, but she worried that if he did that the bond would go further, become permanent. She didnâ€™t know the effect it would have on a human or whether Trip truly understood the implications of forming a telepathic mating bond with her. Marriages could be dissolved, telepathic bonds could not.

But then she suddenly realized he knew all of that, the moment she thought it. The bond, it was already there. She kept kissing him back, and slipped her hand back into his.

_It is not too late. But if you stay, the bond may be permanent._

_Iâ€™m staying._

*****

Trip awoke, for the first time, in Tâ€™Polâ€™s quarters. Never before had he spent the night here. She was awake. Her face expressionless.

â€œGood morning,â€ he said.

â€œGood morning,â€ she replied, â€œYou had better get dressed. You have less than an hour before the away team is to depart.â€

He kissed her lightly on the lips and began to dress. She followed suit, chatting about the goals of the expedition to the surface and what she would be doing while he was away. It all seemed like very mundane conversation, yet Trip felt as though she was declaring her love to him. He supposed that for a Vulcan, she was.

_Vulcans donâ€™t talk about their feelings._

_You just now realized that, Commander?_

A piece of advice from Hoshi. But I donâ€™t think she realized why Vulcans donâ€™t have to talk about their feelings.

â€œYou were conversing with Ensign Sato about me?â€ asked Tâ€™Pol.

â€œWell, yeah. She was trying to be helpful,â€ said Trip.

Tâ€™Pol didnâ€™t answer, but Trip also knew she wasnâ€™t mad either.

â€œYou know,â€ said Trip, â€œI wonder if the captain could learn to perform a traditional Vulcan wedding ceremony.â€

Tâ€™Pol was silent. Trip thought for a moment about getting down on one knee, but that gesture would have no meaning to Tâ€™Pol. No, he decided that offering to learn a series of complex Vulcan vows would be the kind of gesture she would find romantic.

_Are you proposing marriage?_

_That depends, are you accepting?_

Trip could feel a strange weight lifting from Tâ€™Polâ€™s psyche. At that moment, he understood just what she was giving up. Humans were far more tolerant of rebellion against tradition. By marrying him, she was giving up ever being fully accepted by other Vulcans. And she was fine with that. He also knew that had circumstances been different, she might not be so willing. But he was fine with that.

â€œYouâ€™ll always be a Vulcan. I donâ€™t want you to change. I want you to be true to yourself.â€

â€œA traditional Vulcan ceremony would be gratifying. . .but Iâ€™ll have to start teaching the captain the proper pronunciation.â€

â€œWeâ€™ll need to tell him,â€ said Trip, reluctantly. For some reason, he wanted to keep their relationship to themselves, just for a little while. Trip also sensed just how reticent Tâ€™Pol was about drawing attention to her personal life. She may not have cared what the crew thought of her, but she didnâ€™t relish the idea of being the center of attention - no matter how positive the attention. Human fussing wasnâ€™t going to sit well with her.

â€œLetâ€™s wait a few weeks,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, â€œThe captain has enough to worry about without memorizing Vulcan vows.â€

_You know not to tell anyone about the bond?_

_No, no I wonâ€™t. It will be our little secret. Big secret._

Trip understood that this bond was a huge Vulcan deal, and something that was not talked about.

â€œOur relationship is hardly a secret,â€ said Trip, â€œIn fact, most everyone thinks more has been going on than actually has been.â€

â€œStill, I see no need to announce it just yet,â€ said Tâ€™Pol.

Trip understood.

â€œBesides,â€ continued Tâ€™Pol, â€œWe should probably time our. . .honeymoon to my mating cycle. I expect it within the year. That way the Pon Farr wonâ€™t interfere with my duties.â€

Thanks to this new bond, Trip knew better than to crack a joke about Vulcan mating cycles. Pon Farr was serious, potentially deadly business for her. He realized she was also worried for him.

_My Pon Farr might trigger a similar cycle in you._

_Weâ€™ll deal with that when the times comes._

Tâ€™Pol worried about that. She knew nothing of how the bond or the Pon Farr would affect a human. She even sense a small amount of anticipation in Trip. For Vulcans, the great loss of dignity and control was viewed as a necessary evil. Typical for a human to look upon such an event with - excitement.

Trip, who by now was fully dressed, leaned down and kissed her. To his gratification, the action calmed her irritation.

_This isnâ€™t going to be so hard._

He thought the words to himself, but realized immediately that she heard them.

_Donâ€™t be so certain._

â€œHave a pleasant time on the surface, Commander,â€ said Tâ€™Pol.

â€œYou know,â€ said Trip, â€œMaybe when weâ€™re alone you can call me Trip.â€

With that, he turned around and left her quarters, grateful that there were no stray crew members in the hall.

***

Hoshi and Malcolm were the first two officers to meet at Shuttlepod One.

â€œHow are you, ensign?â€ said Malcolm.

â€œJust fine,â€ said Hoshi, â€œLooking forward to some fresh air, and perhaps meeting some people who donâ€™t want to destroy us or rob us or generally make our lives miserable.â€

Malcolm leaned back against the shuttle and folded his arms.

â€œI think all this quiet has gone to your head. Just because the people on this planet donâ€™t aspire to wipe out all of humanity, that doesnâ€™t make them friendly. What have you learned from their transmission?â€

â€œThe town is an Ikkarren colony. They are basically traders. Their home world is about 25 light years from here, but they have colonies and freighters scattered all over the Expanse. The captain thinks they could not only provide us with supplies but with information as well.â€

Hoshi fiddled with the UT.

â€œThere are three separate Ikkaren dialects. Iâ€™m working on what appears to be the most common.â€

â€œFeels like old times,â€ said Malcolm, â€œExcept now we donâ€™t have Starfleet Command or the Vulcans looking over our shoulder. Weâ€™re on our own.â€

â€œItâ€™s a little scary. . .â€ replied Hoshi, â€œBut also kind of exciting. Out here, nobody is sending a rescue party. Itâ€™s up to us to survive. In a way, itâ€™s the biggest challenge any of us has ever faced. . .â€ she said.

â€œYou donâ€™t seem scared,â€ said Malcolm.

Hoshi remembered back to her early days on Enterprise, when she jumped at every engine hiccup and every first contact sent her into a near panic. Now, she felt that whatever the Expanse was going to throw at her, she could handle it. She didnâ€™t have a choice. There was no fleeing to the safety of home. Enterprise was home.

â€œItâ€™s like weâ€™re pioneers,â€ said Hoshi, â€œLike an old wagon train from a movie. Thereâ€™s only moving forward...I guess I could let it sink me. But Iâ€™m not.â€

Malcolm searched Hoshiâ€™s face for any sign that she was talking herself into this sunny attitude. But she wasnâ€™t acting. She really did think they were on an adventure.

â€œBy the way, I saw Travis snogging one Corporeal McKenzie in the hallway. They werenâ€™t even trying to be discreet,â€ said Hoshi.

Malcolm lowered his voice and looked around.

â€œI heard Trip went Tâ€™Polâ€™s quarters last night. Except that no one saw him leave. I knocked on his door this morning - he wasnâ€™t there.â€

Hoshi laughed out loud. So much for the worst kept secret on the ship.

â€œIt appears half the crew is screwing all of a sudden - for the good of humanity,â€ she replied.

â€œWhat else are we going to do with all this time weâ€™ve suddenly got on our hands?â€

Malcolm and Hoshiâ€™s eyes met - he wondered for just a second if he should say something. Ask her for coffee. Coffee, after all, meant sex these days.

They were interrupted with footsteps from around the corner. It was the Captain.

â€œHi Captain,â€ said Hoshi.

â€œGood Morning,â€ said Malcolm, regaining his composure.

â€œYou two look happy this morning,â€ said Jon, â€œGlad to see youâ€™re taking a positive attitude.â€

Hoshi smiled at the captain.

â€œJust looking forward to an old fashioned first contact,â€ said Hoshi, â€œWithout the immediate threat of genocide hanging over our heads.â€

It occurred to Hoshi that the captain was probably the only one on the ship who was unaware of the all the gossip, innuendo and sexual tension that had gripped the ship over the past ten days. Hoshi guessed that he probably didnâ€™t even know about Trip and Tâ€™Pol, even though he worked closely with them every day. Being captain must be so isolating.

Trip arrived next.

â€œI hope Iâ€™m not late,â€ he said.

â€œNo, right on time,â€ said Jon.

With that, he briefed everyone on their assignments for the day, and they loaded themselves into the shuttlepod. The planet was blue, not Earth blue, but slightly lighter, with a tinge of yellow in the atmosphere. Jon looked down and hoped that things would go smoothly.

***

The away team had been on the surface of the planet for nearly five hours. The settlement was surprisingly large, and quite civilized. The cobblestone streets were clean and well maintained, with lamp posts and benches lining either side. The settlement had been built alone the river and several pleasure craft appear to sail alongside barges and transports. Several elaborate buildings appeared more than a century old, with stylized ornamentation and colored windows. Most of the buildings had elaborate landscape, with blooming flowers overflowing from pots and beds.

There were outdoor markets selling everything from clothing and jewelry to animals and all kinds of exotic, colorful foods. There were also shops selling more high end goods, including art. Most of the people were Ikkaren, but several other species roamed the streets. No Xindi, though.

All in all, these Ikkaren seems sophisticated and civilized, with an interest in art and music as well as science. A small orchestra was playing in a nearby square, and children played by a fountain of pink water. There were some police roaming around, but the settlement generally felt safe.

The Ikkarens themselves were humanoid, with some ridges on their faces and long spindly fingers. Hoshi didnâ€™t have a difficult time picking up their language, which she found elegant and suspected it would produce some great literature. There was a poetic meter in their everyday speech.

Malcolm and Trip were still off in the eastern part of the settlement looking to find spare parts for weapons, engines and every other system on the ship. Hoshi had traded some spare conduits for Ikkaren currency, and so she and Jon were sitting in a cafe and sampling the local cuisine. It was surprisingly palatable, even a bit spicy.

â€œI think this tea might be alcoholic,â€ said Hoshi, as she took a sip.

Jon downed the rest of his.

â€œI think so,â€ said Jon, â€œItâ€™s not bad. If I wasnâ€™t captain Iâ€™d have another.â€

Hoshi flagged down their waitress and ordered another round.

â€œI wonâ€™t tell anyone, sir,â€ said Hoshi, â€œBut you do look like you could use another one. And itâ€™s not like you can get in trouble with starfleet command anymore.â€

When the order arrived, Jon lifted his cup and toasted.

â€œTo horrible freedom,â€ he said.

â€œSo,â€ he continued,â€whatâ€™s going on with the crew? How are people handling all this? How is morale?â€

Hoshi took a big gulp of her tea, which was indeed fermented somehow, but she wasnâ€™t even close to being tipsy yet.

â€œStrange. . .I suppose if something like this had happened a year ago, people would be more upset. But itâ€™s almost like people are enjoying that the time pressure is off. . .that we have over a hundred years before Earth is in danger. . .I donâ€™t know.â€

â€œIâ€™ve been thinking about adding more recreation to the ship,â€ said Jon, â€œMovie night is fun - but I am going to ask Trip about turning Cargo Bay Three into a swimming pool. Maybe put together a water polo team..â€

â€œYouâ€™re the Captain,â€ said Hoshi, â€œIf the Xindi Aquatics can have spaceships, Iâ€™m pretty sure we can manage a pool. Itâ€™s good exercise, swimming. And weâ€™re going to need all the recreational outlets we can get. . .and swimming is good for children, too.â€

Jon shook his head. Children being born in deep space wasnâ€™t a new concept, after all Travis was a boomer. But he never thought heâ€™d be in command of ship filled with children. Moreover, he was in the peculiar position of actually needing his crew to create children. Heâ€™d thought about even ordering people to start having them, but that seemed a little much at this early stage. The crew was filled with young people, he hoped nature would take its course soon enough.

â€œDo you think people are going to start having children soon?â€ asked Jon, â€œSince its now part of our mission. As awkward as that is,â€ said Jon.

Hoshi nodded.

â€œWith all the fooling around thatâ€™s been going on the ship in the last week,â€ said Hoshi, â€œItâ€™s only a matter of time. Tedium plus a sudden limitation of oneâ€™s options seems to have been quite inspiring.â€

Jon flinched. As far as he had always been concerned, the personal lives of his crew werenâ€™t any of his business as long nothing interfered with the shipâ€™s mission. But now the shipâ€™s mission and the crewâ€™s personal lives had become intertwined in a way that made everything his business. And yet, he didnâ€™t want to ask and didnâ€™t want to know.

â€œI wouldnâ€™t worry too much about the next generation, sir,â€ said Hoshi, â€œIâ€™m pretty sure it will take care of itself. And probably sooner rather than later.â€

Jon gestured toward the Ikkaren children playing in the square.

â€œWeâ€™ll have to set up schools and playgrounds on Enterprise. Theyâ€™ll be children - human children, who will live their whole lives on board.â€

â€œYou know,â€ said Hoshi, â€œI donâ€™t envy Vulcans their long lives. You realize Tâ€™Pol is going to watch all of us grow old and die. As Vulcan as she is, thatâ€™s not going to be easy.â€

Jon furrowed a bit. He had up until then thought of Tâ€™Polâ€™s lifespan as nothing but an asset. It hadnâ€™t occurred to him that she would eventually be put in a very lonely position.

â€œOf course,â€ said Hoshi, â€œHer children might have much longer life spans, even if they are only half Vulcan.â€

Jon furrowed again. Ordering Tâ€™Pol to create long-lived children was something that he hoped he wouldnâ€™t have to do. Hopefully, she would find it logical, under the circumstances. Before he could help it, he tried to picture what a child of his and Tâ€™Polâ€™s might look like. Would he or she have pointed ears? Dark hair? For a split second, he also pictured himself making love to his first officer. . .it was a pleasant thought, one that he put out of his mind immediately.

â€œPhlox is working on ways to combine Vulcan and human genomes. And Human and Denobulan. Heâ€™s thinking ahead, I guess,â€ said Jon.

Hoshi searched her captainâ€™s face. He wasnâ€™t revealing much of what he was thinking. But she couldnâ€™t blame him. The radically altered circumstances were enough to give anyone whiplash.

Hoshi thought for a moment that a psychologist might have been useful aboard the ship. She would have thought the idea absurd weeks ago, but stress had begun to crack even the coolest, calmest crew members before the corridor.

Hoshi wondered if the captain had someone to talk to. He and Tâ€™Pol seemed close, but she wasnâ€™t exactly one to lend emotional support. More like suppress-your-emotional support. The captain was friends with Trip, but men like them didnâ€™t talk feelings. They talked water-polo or football.

It occurred to Hoshi that the captain probably looked great in his water polo swimsuit. She might enjoy seeing that. . .he was a little old for her, but he was the captain and. . .Hoshiâ€™s mind wandered somewhere she didnâ€™t want it to go.

The tea might have been stronger than she thought. The captain wasnâ€™t an option, thought Hoshi. Heâ€™d never think of her that way.

â€œWhat do you think of the Ikkarens?â€ asked the Captain.

â€œI think we can trust them,â€ said Hoshi, â€œI think they might make good allies. They seem open to learning about new species.â€

Jon drank down the last bit of his tea. It felt good to be an explorer again.

*****

Three day later, Malcolm lay in sickbay with a particle burn on his hand. Phloxâ€™s osmotic eel sucked away at the wound, and Malcolm stared at the ceiling. Standard phasers were best most of the time, certainly more humane but some species didnâ€™t respond. Since they didnâ€™t know who or what awaited them, Malcolm felt it best to stay prepared and that meant a compliment of particle weapons at the ready. It was unfortunate that one of the disrupters had slightly overloaded during a test.

â€œGlad to see you are awake,â€ said Phlox, â€œYour burn is almost healed.â€

Phlox came and removed the slimy creature from Malcolmâ€™s hand. Just then, the MACO called Amanda strolled into sickbay. From where Malcolm sat, she looked perfectly healthy. It didnâ€™t stop her from jumping up on one of the bio-beds.

â€œHello, Doctor,â€ she said, â€œI think Iâ€™ve pulled that same muscle again.â€

Malcolm caught the unmistakable flirtation in her voice. Clearly, the young woman wasnâ€™t too broken hearted over Trip and had moved on to, of all people, Dr. Phlox.

â€œOuch!â€ said Amanda as she looked down at Malcolmâ€™s hand, â€œThat looks like it hurts. And is slimy. But then...Iâ€™m sure Phlox is working his magic on you.â€

Malcolm felt a little sick to his stomach, but it wasnâ€™t from the burns. He hoped heâ€™d be able to get out of there soon.

****

Tâ€™Pol opened her eyes and found herself in unfamiliar quarters. She jerked up quickly and remembered that she was in Tripâ€™s quarters. She was alone, however. She pulled the covers up over her body and wondered why she had not thought to bring nightclothes with her. Since Vulcans didnâ€™t date, she wasnâ€™t used to thinking ahead. Trip had obviously not wanted to wake her - likely he had been called to engineering.

Tâ€™Pol had never been alone in his quarters before. In fact, she had only been there a handful of times. She looked around at the photographs of his family and engineering manuels. There was also a photograph on one of the early away missions, the one that had culminated in her shooting Trip with a phase pistol. The photograph had been taken before the away mission had devolved so badly. The humans all looked so excited to be exploring a new place, so like their home, yet so different.

There wasnâ€™t much in Tripâ€™s quarters that surprised her, except the fact that it was so neat. She would have expected more chaos from him, given the state of his emotions. She slowly got up and dressed, breathing deeply. The air felt good in her lungs.

He usually came to her room, but he had invited her to his quarters to watch a movie in private. Date night, he had called it.

He had chosen a black and white film called _Ninotchka_ , starring an actress called Greta Garbo. She played a twentieth century woman who had embraced logic, only to abandon it when she falls in love with a Parisian. Tâ€™Pol appreciated the bittersweet ending when the protagonist chooses to stay with her lover than return to her logical, ordered society.

Tâ€™Pol looked around the small space. It occurred to her that it was barely enough for one person, let alone two. Her quarters were the same. And these were some of the larger quarters on the ship, besides the captainâ€™s. If people were to begin cohabiting, then they would need to reconfigure living quarters. Perhaps they could combine two adjacent quarters, she thought.

Knowing she was needed on the bridge, she exited and headed toward her own quarters. She wanted to change into a fresh uniform, at the very least. She hadnâ€™t made it twenty yards down the hall before running into the captain.

â€œGood morning, Tâ€™Pol,â€ said Jon, who was pretending not to have noticed her coming out of Tripâ€™s quarters.

Jon knew Trip was in engineering, and so she had been in his quarters alone. That could only mean one thing. I mean, what would she be doing coming out of his quarters first thing in the morning, in the same color uniform she had been wearing the day before? She always rotated colors.

It shouldnâ€™t come as a surprise, thought Jon, the two had been tight ever since they entered the Expanse. And Trip had made that neural pressure business did sound like it was rather . . .fun.

â€œGood morning, Captain,â€ said Tâ€™Pol.

â€œHeading to the Bridge?â€ said Jon, â€œIâ€™m on my way myself.â€

â€œI need to retrieve something from my quarters. Iâ€™ll be there shortly.â€

With that, Tâ€™Pol slipped away. She wondered for a moment if the captain had noticed her coming out of Commander Tuckerâ€™s quarters, but she brushed the thought aside. She wasnâ€™t yet ready to reveal their bonding, yet, not even to the captain. Besides, there was no reason to think that he would extrapolate anything from such a small bit of information.

She was wrong, of course. As a Vulcan, she was completely oblivious to the human ability to take a small bit of information and imagine entire complex scenarios to fill in the blanks. Jon, as he headed up to the bridge, was doing just that.

Have I really been that clueless? Could his two senior officers, his two best friends on the ship be involved without him realizing it? Small moments flashed into his head. Trip and Tâ€™Pol working so well together in the Old West town of North Star. The nearly emotional way Tâ€™Pol had reacted when Trip was in a coma. The countless times he had found the two together in the mess hall or working side by side in engineering...had he really been so dense?

Jon shook off the feeling of jealousy and disappointment. It was hardly appropriate for him to pair off with any member of his crew, let alone his first officer. And if his two best friends could find happiness in this crazy situation they had found themselves in - so be it.

It occurred to Jon that he might well have to spend the rest of his life alone. Such was the burden of command. It was a sad thought, but one he hoped he would come to accept.

****

Hoshi, for her part, decided to go for a run - not in the gym - but around the decks that people used for a track. In her head, she was mulling over the fact that with men outnumbering the women on the ship, she had suddenly become an object of great attention. Several male crew members and a few MACOs had already chatted her up.

It was certainly an interesting development, but she wasnâ€™t so sure that she liked it. She wanted to fall in love with someone - not hook up with someone because suddenly options were limited.

On the other hand, what better time than to look for love than in a time of crisis?

Hoshi looked down at her watch. She would run for another twenty minutes, and that would be enough. Running on these decks would get old after a few years, so maybe the captainâ€™s idea of a pool wasnâ€™t such a bad one.

Just then, she heard steps behind her. Someone was running, and overtaking her. Her practiced ear let her know that it was a manâ€™s footsteps, and that he was a MACO. Starfleet issue boots make a different sound against the deck plating. She also guessed that it was a male MACO catching up behind her.

Soon, Hoshi realized it was the head MACO, Major Hayes.

â€œHello, Ensign,â€ said Hayes.

â€œHello, Major,â€ said Hoshi.

â€œNice day for a run,â€ he said.

Hayes smiled at her and paced himself so he wouldnâ€™t pass her. He had had to quickly change into his running gear after seeing the ensign heading off for a run. Over the past week, Hayes had been seeking an opportunity to speak to her alone, and now he had to grab the opportunity. He was a smart man, and he knew that young Ensign Sato was going to have swarms of young men courting her. But he had also decided, after reviewing all the potential wives aboard the ship, that Ensign Sato would make a fine Mrs. Hayes. She was young, beautiful and brilliant, and she was charming as well. He had admired her pluck during various ordinance training exercises as well.

Hayes wasnâ€™t a man to let competition worry him, either. He was a man who, when he wanted something, figured out a way to get it.

â€œI had a question to ask you, ensign,â€ he said, â€œWould you be willing to instruct me in the Xindi languages? I figure Iâ€™ll have to start with Primate or Arboreal - Iâ€™m not quite up for Insectazoid. But I figure weâ€™re bound to run into Xindi in the next few decades, and I want to be prepared.â€

Hoshi smiled.

â€œSure. Iâ€™d be happy to help you learn.â€

Major Hayes showed no hint of the triumph he was feeling. Multiple language lessons would keep her away from mooning young crewman.

â€œGood. No time to waste. Shall I meet you in the mess hall at 1900 hours?â€

â€œIâ€™ll be there,â€ said Hoshi.

With that, Major Hayes sped past her. He was way too old for awkward small talk, and he saw no reason why he shouldnâ€™t leave her wanting more.

As he pulled away, Hoshi admired his stance and the grace with which he ran. He was a little old for her, but then again she had always dated older men back on Earth. It was a thought, anyway.

****

Jon, Trip and Tâ€™Pol dined in his private mess that night, something the three of them had done countless times. Trip chatted away about the engines and the parts he had obtained at the Ikkaren colony. Tâ€™Pol talked about the feasibility of putting a swimming pool in Cargo Bay 3.

Jon stayed more quiet than usual, studying their interaction for any hint that something was going on between them. They gave no hint. He wondered if it would be polite to ask. Trip wouldnâ€™t care, he was sure. But Vulcans sure were tight lipped about their personal lives. Hell, he had always assumed they didnâ€™t have personal lives except every seven years.

â€œThereâ€™s a betting pool about when the first child will be born,â€ said Trip.

Jon smiled at the one.

â€œI hear the crew has been busy getting started on that phase of our mission,â€ he replied.

â€œI bet on on 9 months from last Monday,â€ said Trip.

Tâ€™Pol took a bite of her salad, then a sip of the wine. This was the third time Jon had seen her drink since the corridor. I suppose, he thought, that means she isnâ€™t pregnant.

â€œI wouldnâ€™t bet against that,â€ said Tâ€™Pol.

Jon and Trip both looked at her.

â€œMeaning that several female members of the crew have inquired with Phlox about labor and delivery in space. He believes that we might need to expand sickbay to make room for a nursery.â€

Jon sliced a piece of bread, narrowly missing cutting his finger.

â€œNine months seems like an inadequate time to prepare for the birth of a child,â€ said Tâ€™Pol.

The two men were silent.

â€œThe Vulcan gestational cycle lasts a full Vulcan year,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, â€œWhich gives the parents more adequate time to prepare for the childâ€™s education.â€

â€œIâ€™ll bet the best Vulcan schools have long waiting lists,â€ said Archer, half-jokingly.

â€œStudents are accepted based on their scholastic abilities,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, â€œBut prior to schooling, parents are responsible for teaching a child reading, math and basic scientific principles.â€

Tâ€™Pol hoped to keep this conversation as impersonal as possible, something she knew would be a losing battle.

â€œDo Vulcan babies laugh?â€ asked Trip, who had never seen a Vulcan baby and realized that he might someday be the father of one.

â€œYes,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, â€œIt is considered unwise to prohibit any expression in an infant that is pre-verbal. However, by the time a child is five or six Vulcan years, we start teaching them basic meditation techniques.â€

Trip wondered for a moment whether a Vulcan/human child would be more Vulcan or human. Would it be necessary to have the kid start bottling his emotions in kindergarten? He hoped not.

Trip glanced up at Tâ€™Pol. She knew exactly what he was thinking. Damn, this telepathy, he thought.

â€œSounds like fun,â€ said Archer, â€œI can only imagine Vulcan playground games.â€™

â€œThey can be quite complex and intimidating,â€ said Tâ€™Pol.

Trip was glad that his offspring werenâ€™t going to be raised on Vulcan, and he didnâ€™t care one bit that Tâ€™Pol knew it.

Do you think the captain knows about us?

If he suspects, heâ€™s hiding it well. But I do think he suspects. He saw me leave your quarters this morning.

â€œPhlox believes that, if we so choose, the he could assist in the the creation of Human/Vulcan hybrid children, as well and Human/Denobulan children,â€ said Tâ€™Pol simply.

Trip nearly choked on his wine.

â€œWell,â€ said Jon, â€œThatâ€™s good to know. For you, I mean. And him. . .but not the two of you together.â€

â€œI believe Phlox has become romantically involved with a female MACO,â€ said Tâ€™Pol.

â€œGood for Phlox,â€ said the captain, â€œAnd it makes sense. From what I know about Denobulans, they donâ€™t much care for being alone. . . .so does Phlox know if pointed ears are a dominant or recessive trait?â€

The captain was teasing her, but he also thought he noticed a little bit of jealously in Tripâ€™s eyes. Yeah, they were definitely an item, thought Jon. Why he even had any doubt, after this morning, he didnâ€™t know. But he wasnâ€™t going to say anything. They would come forward in their own time. Archer couldnâ€™t help wondering if either of them suspected he knew, though.

â€œHe believes they would be a dominant trait,â€ replied Tâ€™Pol.

Trip smiled, very broadly. He was picturing his own children with pointed ears. The idea appealed to him. He had come to find pointed ears completely adorable.

â€œIâ€™ll never understand your fascination with our ears,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, aloud but response to what Trip was thinking.

Trip was taken aback. It was possible to hide thought from her, he knew that much, but he had to work at it.

â€œWell, at least in your case, they are really cute,â€ said Trip.

Tâ€™Pol raised an eyebrow.

Jon couldnâ€™t believe heâ€™d missed the vibe between them until now. They were totally and completely involved. He felt completely left out. And a little lonely.

****

Malcolm told himself that tonight would be the night. He would find Hoshi and casually ask her to tea. Tea or perhaps movie night. Something. Anything. Whatever, the implication would be clear enough. Heâ€™d show his interest, politely as any English gentleman would.

If he knew Hoshiâ€™s habits, she should be in the mess hall by now. Malcolm inhaled deeply. It was just a date, after all. He was just asking her out on a date. If it didnâ€™t work out, well then, it didnâ€™t. But he had to try.

Malcolm strolled into the mess hall as he had done countless time, and he tried to look nonchalantly for Hoshi.

He saw her. She was in uniform, seated in the corner. There was one other person at her table. The last person Malcolm would have expected or wanted to see with Hoshi. Major Hayes.

The two were examining PADDs and Hoshi was pronouncing something clearly. It appeared to Malcolm, intelligence officer that he was, that she was teaching Hayes some alien language.

Brilliant, thought Malcolm. I should have thought of that myself.

Hoshi seemed all business, but Malcolm recognized Hayesâ€™s alpha-male body language. Hayes didnâ€™t give a damn about whatever Hoshi was saying or trying to teach him. Hayes was weaving a web and trying to get poor Hoshi to fall into his trap.

Malcolm could do nothing but pretend he didnâ€™t care what he was seeing. He grabbed some food and looked around for an empty table. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to be alone.

But there was Travis and his new MACO girlfriend. Travis beckoned with a smile and Malcolm approached.

Great, thought Malcolm, I get to be the third wheel. How depressing. Malcolm smiled and sat down at Travisâ€™s table. At least he had a chair that wasnâ€™t facing Hoshi and Hayes.

***

Three months later, things remained much the same on Enterprise, as the ship gradually explored the Expanse. Construction on the swimming pool/recreation area was progressing nicely, and the Ikkarens had proved to be excellent allies - providing chef with a bevy of new ingredients for the food as well as much needed parts for engineering.

And everyone aboard the ship was looking forward to the first post-corridor wedding. Travis & Jay Mckenzie werenâ€™t wasting a bit of time. It was even widely rumored that she was already pregnant. Major Hayes had agreed to give the bride away.

Since the Expanse wasnâ€™t nearly as violent as it was in Enterpriseâ€™s original time, the MACOs found themselves without a tremendous lot to do. They continued their training, but Major Hayes also allowed his troops to contribute to other areas of the ship. Pool construction, living quarters realignment and even gardening. Hayes didnâ€™t think the peace would last, but he also knew that his people would go nuts if they did nothing but train for combat that would be much rarer than it had been.

Hoshi had agreed to be Travisâ€™s â€œBest Personâ€ and Amanda was going to be Jayâ€™s â€œBest Personâ€ - and the chef was baking a special wedding cake as well. Hoshi figured it would be the first of many to come.

She was sitting in the mess hall, alone, studying her Ikkaren. She had gotten the basics down pretty quick, but the language had dialects to spare - and the Ikkarens always appreciated it if someone recognized their specific dialect and used it.

Across the mess, she saw Trip and Tâ€™Pol eating together. She watched for any sign of affection between the two, but they appeared to be just colleagues, as they had before the Expanse and before the corridor.

But Hoshi, like everyone else on board, knew better. If you wanted to find Trip at three in the morning these days, everyone knew to ring Tâ€™Polâ€™s quarters. They were usually there. Sometimes, she would be found in Tripâ€™s quarters. And they always attended meals together. And movie night. Yet, to her knowledge, they have never publicly acknowledged their relationship. It had to be a Vulcan thing, thought Hoshi. They were excessively private people.

Speaking of which, Malcolm strolled into the mess hall, alone as usual. Hoshi beckoned him to sit next to her. Of all the members of the crew, except maybe the captain, Hoshi had heard the fewest rumors about Malcolm in the last months. In fact, she had heard none at all.

Malcolm grabbed his food, and happily sat down next to Hoshi.

â€œI thought you mastered Ikkaren weeks ago,â€ said Malcolm.

â€œJust the eastern dialect,â€ said Hoshi, â€œNow Iâ€™m working on the northern. Itâ€™s got a more lilting cadence.â€

â€œI hear youâ€™re in the wedding,â€ said Malcolm, â€œThatâ€™s exciting.â€

â€œI was really flattered when Travis asked me,â€ replied Hoshi, â€œDo you have a date yet?â€

For a moment, Malcolm hoped she was asking him.

â€œIâ€™m taking Joss. .. Major Hayes. Heâ€™s giving the bride away.â€

Malcolm tried not to look crestfallen, but she might as well have kicked him in the shins.

â€œYouâ€™ve been seeing a lot of him lately,â€ said Malcolm.

â€œItâ€™s going to be a long journey,â€ said Hoshi, â€œItâ€™s nice to have company.â€

*****

Tâ€™Pol and Jon had spent hours looking over reports and logs. During the first part of the Xindi mission, it had been stressful but none of the logs were boring. Now, it was just tedious and more tedious reports about nothing interesting. Even the Ikkarens, with all their rich cultural traditions, were fully accustomed to meeting other species and all of their contacts had passed without incident.

One thing that had interested Jon over the past few hours was the ring Tâ€™Pol was wearing around her left ring finger. It appeared to be platinum, with tiny Vulcan lettering around it and a stone that turned from purple to blue as Tâ€™Pol moved her hands.

Jon was positively sick of pretending the romance between his two senior officers didnâ€™t exist - no matter what her Vulcan sensibilities. If she was going to sport what appeared to be an engagement ring, she was going to have to field a few inquiries.

â€œThatâ€™s a beautiful ring,â€ said Jon, casually, â€œI assume it is new.â€

Tâ€™Pol looked up. So, he had finally decided to ask.

â€œIt was a gift from Commander Tucker,â€ she said, â€œHe purchased from an Ikkaren jeweler some weeks ago. The man did an excellent job with Vulcan script.â€

Jon looked at her face. No expression. She had to know what the ring meant. Didnâ€™t Vulcans have wedding rings? Engagement rings? He didnâ€™t know.

â€œVulcan is a complex language. . .the pronunciations are difficult,â€ said Tâ€™Pol.

Jon was too impatient to let her get where she was going.

â€œYou do realize thatâ€™s an engagement ring, donâ€™t you?â€ asked Jon.

â€œYes,â€ said Tâ€™Pol.

â€œBut you and Trip havenâ€™t even publicly said you are together. . .â€

â€œThat is unnecessary. It is my understanding that the whole ship already knows. Phlox brings it up every time I go to sickbay.â€

Jon thought for a moment about how to counteract that argument. It was true that the whole ship already knew. He may have been the last to know but he knew. Why was it so necessary that they make an announcement?

â€œSo, you and Trip. . . youâ€™re going to be married.â€

â€œEventually, yes,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, â€œTrip doesnâ€™t want to â€˜steal Travisâ€™s thunderâ€™ with a big announcement just yet. Plus it will take him weeks to learn the Vulcan vows,â€ said Tâ€™Pol.

â€œBy the way,â€ she continued, â€œ The ceremony is complex. For you to perform it in Vulcan, you will need to begin studying. Would you be willing to do so? The Universal Translator would take some of more nuanced meaning out of it.â€

Jon sat back in his chair. He knew weddings were going to be a big part of his life from now on, but he hadnâ€™t expected to perform one in Vulcan.

â€œTrip wants the ceremony in Vulcan. He believes it to be a gesture of acceptance of my culture.â€

â€œThatâ€™s very romantic.â€

Tâ€™Pol paused. Romance was something of an alien concept to her, but she was learning. And leaning to appreciate Tripâ€™s flare for it.

â€œYes,â€ she said.

â€œWeâ€™ll,â€ said Jon, â€œIâ€™m happy for you two. Congratulations.â€

Jon briefly thought to broach the subject of a Vulcan/human child. It would be a good asset to the ship - but now wasnâ€™t the time. Now was the time to just be happy that people were getting on with their lives.

â€œThank you,â€ said Tâ€™Pol. â€œIs there anything else?â€

â€œNo,â€ said Jon.

With that Tâ€™Pol slipped back to the bridge to finish her shift.

****

Later that evening, Jay McKenzie approached Tâ€™Pol in the hallway. The Vulcan had barely spoken five words to the young woman, and she didnâ€™t know what she could possibly want.

â€œExcuse me, Commander,â€ said Jay, â€œBut Travis asked me to ask you for a favor.â€

Tâ€™Pol blinked.

â€œWell, you see, thereâ€™s a human tradition. A bride is supposed to wear something something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue. Iâ€™ve got a new pair of shoes from the Ikkaren colony, and Iâ€™ve got a string of pearls that once belonged to my grandmother. But I donâ€™t have a veil - and Iâ€™ve seen you wear this really beautiful shimmering blue scarf sometimes - and you can say no if you want to - but Travis thought it would not only make a great veil, it would be something borrowed and something blue. Youâ€™d get it back right after the wedding, I promise.â€

Tâ€™Pol thought for just a moment. She believed she knew the scarf to which the young MACO was referring. It was aesthetically striking.

â€œIâ€™d be happy to let you - borrow the scarf,â€ said Tâ€™Pol.

Jay looked down at Tâ€™Polâ€™s ring finger.

â€œThatâ€™s a gorgeous rock, Commander,â€ she said, â€œMay I see?â€

Tâ€™Pol raised her hand. Jay gasped aloud.

â€œWhat a beautiful stone,â€ she exclaimed. She held up her own ring finger, on which she was wearing a diamond ring. Tâ€™Pol recognized the traditional human style.

â€œIt was Travisâ€™s grandmotherâ€™s ring,â€ she said, â€œCan you believe heâ€™d been carrying it with him ever since she died - just waiting for the right girl to come along. . . Did Commander Tucker have that one made for you? Itâ€™s just amazing...very you.â€

Tâ€™Pol stared at the young woman. She had no clue how to respond.

â€œYes, Commander Tucker obtained it at an Ikkaren settlement.â€

â€œWell, itâ€™s really, really terrific. Congratulations by the way. And when itâ€™s your turn to be the bride - you can borrow anything of mine you need. . .oh, and Amanda is throwing me a soiree the night before the wedding. Weâ€™re making jello shots. . .youâ€™re more than welcome to come.â€

Tâ€™Pol blinked. She had no idea what a jello shot was.

â€œWeâ€™ll, Iâ€™d best be going. Later,â€ said Jay as she slipped down the corridor.

Tâ€™Pol knew for certain she wouldnâ€™t be attending that party, though she found herself slightly touched that the young woman had invited her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Paramount Owns Everything.

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Paramount Owns Everything.

Rating: PG-13 for non explicit sex and violence.  


* * *

Vulcans had a flare for the dramatic, and so it wasnâ€™t surprising to Trip how dramatic and solemn the Vulcan wedding ceremony was. And small. Unlike the half a dozen or so weddings that had occurred on the ship since the corridor, his and Tâ€™Polâ€™s wouldnâ€™t devolve into a hedonistic reception. There wouldnâ€™t be a reception at all. After the ceremony, in which he only flubbed one line and during which he and the captain wore some approximation of Vulcan robes - he and Tâ€™Pol were supposed to be alone together. The only guests had been Phlox, Hoshi, Travis and Malcolm.

Truth be told, that was fine with Trip. He had had enough of hangovers, and the enthusiastic partying of the younger crew members reminded him that he wasnâ€™t as young as he once was.

No, his commitment to Tâ€™Pol was serious. And the long ritual that had officially joined them was appropriate.

He glanced over at his new wife. She wore layers of shimmering green and blue robes and a scarf around her head. Her face was relaxed, peaceful - and he knew there were few emotions at the surface. She had spent three days meditating in her quarters before the ceremony, refusing to see even him, and now even with their bond he barely knew what she was thinking.

He was escorting her down to Cargo Bay 3, where they would spend the next week, ostensibly alone. The pool had been installed, and for this occasion Trip had created a beach shoreline at the edge - complete with palm tree. A relatively large cabana had also been built, with a table and chairs and couch. There was also a full sized bed - piled high with pillows - would be where they would sleep. And, not sleep.

It seemed fair. He had agreed to a Vulcan wedding. She had agreed to a human honeymoon.

It seemed bizarre to Trip that Vulcans had no concept of a wedding night and often waited years, to the onset of Pon Farr, to consummate a marriage. He thanked his lucky stars that Tâ€™Pol was adjusting nicely to human mating cycles. She even had started to enjoy them.

When they arrived at the cargo bay, Trip shut the door behind them. Only chef would be coming by with meals twice a day. Otherwise, they were on their own for a week.

He was also relieved that there were no signs of practical jokes from the crew. He had explained to several members of the engineering crew - and to the captain - that Vulcans were incapable of appreciating wedding night humor and that Tâ€™Pol would be appalled at anything that referenced their impeding â€œsexual relations.â€ It seemed everyone got the message.

What was weird, though, was the Trip had come to understand that his wife had a very dry sense of humor. While she never laughed or smiled, she could tease him or the captain without raising one of her delightful Vulcan eyebrows. And since they had formed this telepathic bond, he now knew how often she was amused by jokes or movies or even the oddness she perceived in human behavior.

But she had not spoken a word since the ceremony. And the only thing as far as emotion he sensed from her was serenity - peace. Which, he supposed was a good thing.

And it was. All the traumas she had suffered in recent years had seemed to slip away once she became trapped in the corridor. The heavy weight of Vulcan tradition had been lifted, and her shortcomings no longer seemed to matter. Once she stopped gauging her emotional control by what was possible for most Vulcans and started balancing logic with her own newfound emotions, everything made sense. She was no longer ashamed of what she felt for Trip. She looked forward to feeling it.

â€œHave you been swimming since this was installed?â€ she asked. She walked toward the edge of the water.

â€œNot yet,â€ he said, â€œYou might want to take off those shoes, though.â€

Tâ€™Pol was wearing what appeared to be highly illogical high-heeled shoes. The flare for the dramatic had clearly won out over logic. Although, they did nicely accentuate her legs.

â€œDo Vulcans learn how to swim as children?â€

â€œYes, it is considered an important survival skill as well as good exercise,â€ she replied.

Tâ€™Pol took off her shoes, and then began to undress. The lights in the cargo bay were low, but he could see her perfectly formed silhouette as she waded into the water.

â€œIs it warm?â€ he asked.

â€œIt is comfortable,â€ she said as she disappeared under the water.

Trip didnâ€™t need an invitation. He stripped himself of his own clothes and soon followed after her.

Damn, sheâ€™s and excellent swimmer. Heâ€™d been swimming since before he could walk, but he couldnâ€™t see anything wrong with her stroke. It was perfect, disciplined and precise. How odd, he thought, the people who had evolved on different planets but with similar physiology would develop near identical swimming techniques. Or maybe she just took some lessons on Earth.

He approached her in the water, and she swam to meet him. He took her into his arms and kissed her deeply. The first time he had done so since they were married. He was happy that she kissed him back - something she still didnâ€™t always do.

Tripâ€™s feet found the bottom of the pool, so he could lift her into his arms and kiss deeper and longer.

She continued to kiss him, but while she did she slipped her hand into his and Trip found the bond energy come swirling back. He was afraid he might drown. No wonder Vulcans suppressed their emotions, he thought. The passion boiling up from her threatened to engulf his mind, destroy any reason or logic. He was overwhelmed at the sheer danger of it, but he also couldnâ€™t imagine pulling away.

****

â€œIt was a beautiful ceremony,â€ said Hoshi, who had run into Malcolm at breakfast, â€œReally profound. I love how seriously Vulcans take their rituals. And Trip did amazing. He seemed so happy to be there. . .it was really romantic,â€ she continued, â€œAnd you must have noticed how amazing Tâ€™Pol looked. Iâ€™ve always envied her clothes - and just when you think she couldnâ€™t have anything else in that tiny closet of hers - she pulls out that number. I donâ€™t know what makes Vulcan silkworms so talented, but I wish I had done some more shopping the last time I was on Vulcan.â€

â€œI think that was Tholian silk,â€ said Malcolm, â€œItâ€™s very rare.â€

Malcolm sighed and remembered just how stunning Tâ€™Pol had looked. He was happy for his friends, and more than a little bit envious. To his irritation, he also spied what appeared to be a hickey on Hoshiâ€™s neck. Clearly, the bride and groom were not the only ones who got laid the night before. Hoshi also had that unmistakable - glow about her.

â€œI hope when I get married, my honeymoon will be some place more interesting,â€ said Malcolm.

â€œFor your sake, Malcolm,â€ said Hoshi, â€œI hope that when you get married youâ€™ll be so happy that you wonâ€™t care where youâ€™re honeymoon is,â€ said Hoshi.

â€œTouche,â€ said Malcolm.

Malcolm thought of teasing Hoshi about her relationship with Hayes, but he was afraid it would come out bitter rather than light-hearted. Thatâ€™s probably because he was bitter. With the men outnumbering the women two to one, it seemed that all of the women were taken. Malcolmâ€™s only option seemed to be to wait around until someone broke up with someone. Rebound relationships were at least something.

â€œAnything interesting come through the comm, lately,â€ asked Malcolm, â€œI canâ€™t believe we wonâ€™t be at another habitable planet for at least two weeks.â€

â€œWell, at least it gives our honeymooners a chance to be alone for a week,â€ said Hoshi.

Suddenly, the captainâ€™s voice came over the comm, summoning Hoshi and Malcolm to the bridge.

â€œWeâ€™re not on vacation,â€ sighed Malcolm.

â€œBut at least something - anything has happened,â€ said Hoshi.

When they arrived on the bridge, the captain was in his chair. An Ikkaren freighter appeared on the viewscreen. It appeared to have some damage.

â€œThere are life signs,â€ said the Captain, â€œBut the ship appears to be disabled. Thereâ€™s been no distress call.â€

â€œIt could be a trap,â€ said Malcolm, remembering their early experiences in the Expanse and elsewhere.

â€œIt could be,â€ said Jon, â€œBut I donâ€™t want to abandon anyone that needs are help out of an over abundance of caution. You and I will take a shuttlepod and see if we can do anything. Hoshi, try hailing them again.â€

Nothing.

â€œHoshi, you have the bridge, Malcolm your with me.â€

Malcolm felt excitement bubble up in him. It had been months since anything this interesting had happened. He could finally stop feeling sorry for himself and start getting back to what he was good at - away missions on strange and possibly dangerous ships.

****

Within two hours, Jon and Malcolm had boarded the Ikkaren transport. It didnâ€™t long for them both to realize why the shipâ€™s passengers and crew were incapacitated. The oxygen level in the atmosphere was remarkably high, too high for a human or an Ikkaren to remain conscious but not enough to kill anyone.

â€œAll in all,â€ said Malcolm, â€œThere are worse things to happen to your life support systems.â€

The Captain nodded in his EV helmet.

â€œWe need to find the controls and see if we can repair them. We should have brought an engineer,â€ said the Captain, who admitted to himself that he didnâ€™t want to bring anyone else but Trip on an adventure like this one. Malcolm remained a great second choice.

â€œI think they will be this way,â€™ said Malcolm as they strolled down the hallway. The corridor appeared empty, until they reached the end. An Ikkaren woman lay on the ground in front of a control panel. Her arm was reaching up toward the controls.

â€œIâ€™m guessing this is the life support system,â€ said Jon, who suddenly was wishing Hoshi was there as well.

But it didnâ€™t matter much. Jon had been learning a bit of Ikkaren here and there over the preceding months, enough to recognize the character for â€œRESETâ€ on the panel. He hoped it would be that easy.

He pressed the button and heard a hissing noise.

Malcolm examined his readings.

â€œThe atmosphere is returning to normal,â€ he said.

With that, he reached down and repositioned the young Ikkaren womanâ€™s body so that she wouldnâ€™t be so awkward when she awakened. As he did so, he couldnâ€™t help noticing how - pretty the woman was. She was humanoid, with skin tones very similar to Earth natives. But, she had a delicate ridge starting at her forehead and down to the tip of her nose. She had light, not blond, but almost white hair and long, white eyelashes. She wore a green dress, similar in style to the ones Malcolm had seen other Ikkaren women wear. This appeared to be a civilian ship.

Meanwhile, Jon took off his helmet and took a deep breath.

â€œThe air is fine now,â€ he said.

The young womanâ€™s eyes began to open. Malcolm took his helmet off and knelt down next to her.

Her eyes opened. Her irises were a pale yellow. Almost the color of sunshine, thought Malcolm.

The woman sat up started. And screamed a high pitched, short scream.

â€œDonâ€™t be afraid,â€ said Malcolm hoping the UT had kicked in, â€œWe came to help, nothing more. Youâ€™re life support systems had got out of whack.â€

The woman looked up at Jon and then back at Malcolm, then up to the control panel.

â€œI know,â€ she said, â€œI was trying to reach the control when I blacked out. My goodness, Iâ€™m glad you came along. How long have we been asleep?â€

Jon reached down a hand and pulled the woman to her feet.

â€œIâ€™m Captain Archer of the Starship Enterprise,â€ he said, smiling.

â€œIâ€™m Lesilia, and my sister is the captain of this transport,â€ she said, â€œNo doubt sheâ€™s found herself awake on the bridge. Do you know how long weâ€™ve been asleep?â€

â€œNo,â€ said Jon, â€œBut from the looks of it, not very long. Thereâ€™s little to no debris accumulation in the atmosphere. You probably werenâ€™t out for longer than a day,â€ he said.

The woman looked at the Captain, then back at Malcolm.

â€œWhere exactly are you two from?â€ she said.

â€œEarth,â€ said Malcolm, â€œItâ€™s a long way from here.â€

In more ways than one, thought Malcolm, remembering that he would never go home.

â€œOur species is called human,â€ he said.

â€œYou must be a long way from home,â€ said Lesilia, â€œBecause Iâ€™ve spent a long time traveling around this part of space, and you two gentleman are the first humans Iâ€™ve ever heard of - let alone met.â€

â€œItâ€™s a long story,â€ said the captain.

Malcolm couldnâ€™t help but notice a lilt in the captainâ€™s speech, on that only surfaced when he was in close proximity of an attractive woman.

â€œWell,â€ said Lesilia, â€œIâ€™m sure my sister will want to thank you both in person. The bridge is just this way.â€

They walked down the corridor and though a pair of ornate doors only a small bridge. To Malcolmâ€™s surprise a woman who looked nearly identical to Lesilia stood there. Nearly, but not entirely identical. Her hair was a kind translucent blue/black and her eyes were green. But otherwise, she looked identical to her sister. She even wore the exact same dress but in yellow rather than green.

â€œWhat the hell happened?â€ asked Essilia, the captain. â€œI assume you didnâ€™t reach the reset button in time.â€

Lesilia folded her arms.

â€œWell, Iâ€™m sorry I wasnâ€™t able to withstand the change in atmosphere as long as you needed me to in order to fix your ship,â€ said the yellow-eyed sister, â€œBut luckily these gentleman came to our rescue.â€

Essilia began to examine a few of her consoles.

â€œEveryoneâ€™s life signs are returning to normal,â€ she said. Her voice indicated great relief.

â€œThank you, whoever you are,â€ she said.

â€œNot at all,â€ said the Captain, â€œPleasure to be of service, maâ€™am.â€

****

Trip awoke in the sumptuous comfort of the honeymoon suite in cargo bay three. He blinked his eyes open but knew better than to try and sit up. He felt a strange mix of hallucinatory intoxication and clarity, and he wondered if the previous night had been a dream. He turned his head and saw his wife looking at him.

Her eyes met his, and she smiled. The most beautiful smile. . .

Trip sat up, in shock. This was Tâ€™Pol, but it wasnâ€™t. He knew it was her. The bond was there, he could feel it.

She lifted her hand up and brushed his face.

â€œShhhh. . .,â€ she said sleepily, â€œIâ€™m fine. Itâ€™s just my serotonin levels wonâ€™t return to normal for another 24 hours.â€

Trip lay back down.

â€œSo,â€ he said, â€œI only get to see you smile like that once every seven years.â€

â€œYes,â€ she said.

â€œCompletely worth the wait,â€ he said.

Then, she laughed. It was a sweet, school girlish laugh. Through their bond, he knew she hadnâ€™t done that she was a child.

Truth be told, as Trip replayed their wedding night in his head, he was glad that her mating cycle would only come around once every seven years. He didnâ€™t think his heart could take that level of intensity for a sustained period of time. No wonder Vulcans could only mate every seven years. If they did it more often, it would kill them.

No, he would be content to return to their more light-hearted, more human sex life.

But we still have another day.

Trip grinned and his wife and pulled her back into his arms.

****

By lunch, Malcolm, Jon, Essilia and Lesilia were dining in the captainâ€™s mess aboard Enterprise. Initially, Essilia had turned Jonâ€™s invitation down, but her sister had convinced her that, after weeks aboard their small transport, they could use a change of scenery.

Essilia told them that while she was the transportâ€™s captain, her sister was primarily a passenger. She gripped her wine glass delicately by the stem, using her long fingers. Jon had noticed that Ikkaren women seemed vain about their hands, and always kept their nails perfect.

â€œI teach art history at a university on Ikkaria,â€ said Lesilia, â€œBut Iâ€™m on winter break. Four months to explore all the goings on in the scattered artists colonies.â€

â€œSheâ€™s being modest,â€ said Essilia, â€œShe teaches at the finest of all the Universities on our home world. Less than one percent of the population even qualifies to apply to study there.â€

Malcolm was impressed. This was an accomplished young woman sitting next to him. Beautiful and smart, she was.

â€œSheâ€™s definitely the brainy one,â€ said Essilia, â€œWhereas I went to flight school and wound up the transport fleet. Iâ€™m the one with the sense of adventure.â€

Malcolm thought he saw a look pass between the sisters, and he made a mental note. Something passed beneath the surface. It was probably nothing, as sibling relationships were often complex.

â€œI hope you donâ€™t mind me remarking,â€ said Malcolm, â€œBut the two of you look remarkably alike.â€

The sisters smiled at each other.

â€œOf course,â€ said Essilia, â€œWeâ€™re identical twins.â€

Jon sipped a bit of Ikkaren wine.

â€œBut youâ€™re coloring, itâ€™s different. Human identical twins are well, more identical.â€

Lesilia looked puzzled.

â€œSo human pigmentation develops in the womb? Ikkarens are born without any pigmentation. Over the first months of life, it develops based on a number of environmental factors. We were raised together, but I think my sisterâ€™s crib was nearer to the window. Which explains a whole lot, not just her hair and eyes.â€

â€œHuman hair color can change over the course of a lifetime,â€ said Malcolm, â€œAnd eye color can change shortly after birth, but most everything is determined by genes.â€

Malcolm offered the sisters more wine and poured himself a glass. He hoped the captain wouldnâ€™t mind. Suddenly, it felt very much like they were on a double date rather than on duty.

Malcolm looked at the two sisters. Both were beautiful, but he knew the captain had a thing for brunettes. And he would happily take the blond. White-blond. What amazing eyes, he thought. What amazingly delicate fingers.

Essilia took a gulp of her wine and leaned over the table. Jon detected a small hint of mean-spiritedness when she spoke.

â€œSo, Lesilia, Thoren is going to be wondering where you are,â€ she said, â€œDid my sister tell you that she was recently married?â€

Malcolm felt like heâ€™d been kicked in the stomach. It wasnâ€™t disappointment, it was the torture of going from giddy to despair in less than a second.

â€œWell,â€ said Jon, â€œCongratulations. Weâ€™ve had a spate of weddings here aboard the Enterprise. We had one last night. On human vessels its customary for the captain to perform the ceremony. So Iâ€™ve been busy,â€ he said.

Lesilia laughed out loud at that.

â€œYou could add that to your many duties, sisâ€ she said, â€œOn Ikkaren ships, itâ€™s the chef that performs the weddings. . . food is a central part of our culture, and thereâ€™s a three course meal thatâ€™s integrated into the ceremony,â€ said Lesilia, â€œIâ€™m still full from my wedding and it was six weeks ago.â€

Malcolm sighed deeply. All of the good ones were taken.

â€œYou should have brought your husband,â€ said Jon.

â€œHeâ€™s busy writing a speech,â€ said Lesilia, â€œHeâ€™ll be delivering it to graduates of the military academy when we reach Ikkaria. Heâ€™s giving the commencement address.â€

Reed felt kicked again. Of course sheâ€™d be married to a celebrity of some kind. A military hero. Reed felt inadequacy drip from his pores.

â€œThoren led the last campaign against the Grey Guard rebels on Ikkaria. They are totalitarians who believe that Ikkarian expansion into so many colonies endangers the purity of our culture. They also believe we should build a larger military. We do have a small guard, but for centuries, Ikkarians security has come from favorable and neutral trade relations with all our neighbors, rather than large military might. In fact, no ship in our fleet is as large and powerful as yours captain. Itâ€™s not that we donâ€™t have the capacity or technology to build them, we just prefer swift, sleek transports and freighters.â€

Lesilia shook her head.

â€œIâ€™ve spent my life studying how our artists are striking out across the colonies and developing their own movements and styles. They are taking Ikkarian culture to new and different places, being influenced by all different species. That idea that it threatens classical Ikkaren culture is patently absurd.â€

Essilia gently put her wine glass down.

â€œDuring the last insurgency, my sister was taken hostage. She was forced to make a statement denouncing her lifeâ€™s work before she was released. Thoren, who was a childhood friend of ours, negotiated her release. He believes, and I believe, that their original intent was to kill her.â€

Jon took a large drink of water. He had met plenty of religious fanatics during his exploration, but this was the first time he had ever encountered cultural fanatics. Even at its most civilized, the Expanse was a dangerous place.

â€œWell,â€ said Malcolm, â€œIâ€™m glad to see you are all right. And that no permanent harm has come you.â€

Essilia laughed.

â€œWell,â€ said Essilia, â€œWe can laugh about it now, but it was terrifying. It did benefit Thoren in one way, though. How many times had you turned down his proposal? Three? Maybe four? Five if you count when we were on the playground. It took him saving your life to realize your feelings.â€

Lesilia shrugged.

How romantic, thought Malcolm. Childhood sweethearts united by a dramatic rescue. It was enough to make his stomach turn.

Jon turned to Essilia. â€œWhat about you? Are you married?â€

Itâ€™s pretty obvious she isnâ€™t, captain, thought Malcolm. It would figure that the brunette would be the single one.

â€œFree as a bird,â€ said Essilia, â€œNot many Ikkaren men are willing to play first mate to a transport captain. For all the strides weâ€™ve made, our men still like to be in the captainâ€™s chair. In fact, most every Ikkaren male I know would be jealous of the size of your ship.â€

Malcolm really thought he was going to vomit in his mouth. At that moment, Lesilia caught his eyes with hers. Somehow, Malcolm knew she was thinking the same thing.

â€œSo,â€ said Jon, â€œHow about that shipâ€™s tour?â€

He got up and extended an arm to the dark-haired Ikkaren. She graciously accepted.

â€œIf you donâ€™t mind, Captain,â€ said Lesilia, â€œI was wondering if you would allow Malcolm to return me to our ship. Iâ€™m sure everyone aboard is still a little shook up over our recent ordeal - and Iâ€™ve also got some work I need to finish.â€

â€œNot if Malcolm doesnâ€™t mind,â€ said Jon as he let Essilia out of his mess.

Once they were out of earshot, Lesilia turned to Malcolm.

â€œMy sister has always been a little bit, transparent,â€ she said, â€œBut I dare say I havenâ€™t seen her that interested in a man in years. Sheâ€™s usually too busy. . .â€

â€œShall I escort you to the shuttlepod?â€

Lesilia lifted her arm up.

â€œThank you, Malcolm,â€ she said, â€œAnd may I again thank you and your captain and crew for stopping and helping us. Not many species around this part of space would do that. It speaks well of all of humanity.â€

Malcolm took her arm and together they walked toward the launch bay.

****

Travis and Hoshi were the only two senior staff members on the bridge when they noticed a ship appear, almost out of nowhere. It was bigger than the Ikkaren transport but much smaller than Enterprise.

Hoshi hailed them, but got no response. She tried again, no response.

The vessel simply hovered over the Ikkaren transport, then it jumped to warp.

â€œOh my god,â€ said Hoshi, â€œIt seems like half the people on board that transport were beamed over to that ship.â€

Hoshi contacted the captain and told him what she saw.

Jon looked at Essilia.

â€œWere you expecting that?â€

â€œNo,â€ she said, â€œBut the strange way our life support systems broke just started to make sense. Iâ€™ll bet my third finger we didnâ€™t meet with an accident yesterday, it was sabotage. And Iâ€™m guessing again - educatedly so - that the Grey Guard was behind this. Weâ€™ve been hearing rumors for months that they were planning something big.â€

Jon hailed Malcolm and told him to wait with the pod. He and Essilia were heading back to the ship.

Soon enough, when the four of them arrived on Essiliaâ€™s ship, they were met by a young steward. He seemed frantic.

â€œThoren and all his men were transported out of here,â€ he said, â€œJust like that.â€

All the color drained from Lesilia face. She didnâ€™t quite faint, but Malcolm had to grab her to prevent her from keeling over.

â€œIâ€™ll wager this isnâ€™t an isolated event,â€ said Essilia, â€œThoren had information that indicated the Greys were planning a coup. If so, it would make sense that they would neutralize any potential counter insurgents. Thoren . . and to a lesser extent myself would make great targets. Iâ€™m sorry Lesilia. Iâ€™m assuming he didnâ€™t tell you about the intelligence we got two months ago. . .â€

Lesilia stood up straight. She shot her sister a venomous look.

â€œHe told me. But he also told me that it was nothing to worry about. I didnâ€™t believe him, of course.â€

Essilia strode over to a console and started tapping at it. Works in the Ikkaren language appeared on the screen.

â€œThereâ€™s been a coup. Worse still, itâ€™s successful. The Grey Guard has control of the capital and all the space ports and the orbital beacons. Marshall Law has been declared.â€

Lesilia made her way to a stool and sat down. She closed her eyes. Malcolm suddenly wished he could have been in a position to help her husband. Hell, at the moment, he would have traded places with her husband if he could have.

â€œDonâ€™t worry,â€ said Essilia, â€œThey are probably not dead. Theyâ€™re no good as bargaining chips if theyâ€™re dead. The Greys will probably just throw them in prison. Jonathan. . .may I recommend that you delay your visit to Ikkaria. Now may not be the best time. It looks like your research trip has been extended, sis.â€

Jon looked around at the small transport. He guessed their supplied were limited.

â€œHow many people do you have on board?â€ asked Jon.

Jon suspected that the sisters, and their crew, may be in danger. He also figured that, like his own crew, they had suddenly become refugees.

â€œBesides my sister and I?â€ said Essilia, â€œFour.â€

â€œI think this little ship could fit in our launch bay,â€ said Jon. â€œWhy donâ€™t you all hide out on Enterprise until you can figure out what to do? If your history is anything like Earthâ€™s, thereâ€™s a good chance this coup will be followed by another one.â€

Before he realized what had happened, Malcolm was helping Essilia park her ship in their launch bay. Soon after that, he helped find quarters for the sisters and their friends. Malcolm thought that, while the sisters situation was difficult, it was somewhat fortuitous for Enterprise. Their knowledge was going to come in handy.

****

Several days later, Leslia sat on one of Phloxâ€™s biobed and held out her hands.

â€œYour species truly has the most amazing phalanges Iâ€™ve ever seen in sentient humanoids. So very delicate. Do you break them often?â€

â€œNot if I can help it,â€ said Lesilia, as she waved her fingers for the doctor, â€œAnd might I say your phalanges are quite remarkable in their own right.â€

Malcolm walked into sickbay.

â€œWhat can I do for you, lieutenant? Are you ill?â€

â€œNo,â€ said Malcolm, â€œBut I heard one of our passengers was here and I wanted to check on her.â€

Lesilia jumped off the bio bed and onto the floor. Her feet made the tiniest of clicking noises when she hit the floor.

â€œIâ€™m fine,â€ she said â€œBut Phlox had never examined an Ikkaren close up before. Since I suddenly have all the time in the world, I thought Iâ€™d make myself useful to him.â€

â€œVery generous of you,â€ replied Malcolm.

â€œMy sister knows every corner of this section of space like it was the back of her fingers,â€ she said, â€œBut unless you all want lessons in Ikkaren contemporary art, Iâ€™m afraid Iâ€™m going to be dead weight around here.â€

â€œNonsense,â€ said Phlox, â€œIâ€™m sure youâ€™ll be very useful. Just your company will be a pleasure. In fact, I would like to invite you to dine with my companion Amanda and myself. Iâ€™m sure she would love to meet you. Weâ€™re expecting our first child.â€

Malcolm started to do some math in his head. Amanda. Jay McKenzie. Crewman Decker. Within a few months, there would be three children aboard the ship.

â€œWell,â€ said Lesilia, â€œI must say Iâ€™m impressed. If I had been in your circumstances. . .well, I guess we all have that in common now. Weâ€™re all refugees.â€

Before he knew what he was doing, Malcolm reached out his hand and placed it on top of hers.

â€œThe Captain says these Grey Guards want nothing to do with the outer colonies. You could easily find a new home at any one of them. . .â€

Malcolm didnâ€™t want to bring up her missing husband. The one he was suddenly becoming sort of kind of glad was missing. He couldnâ€™t help himself.

â€œSo, would you care to join me in the mess for lunch?â€™ said Malcolm. He told himself there was nothing sinister or inappropriate about lunch. He had lunch with Hoshi all the time. Heâ€™d had lunch with Tâ€™Pol three days before her wedding to his best friend. Nothing at all was inappropriate about lunch.

â€œIâ€™d be happy to, and yes Phlox, Iâ€™d be honored to dine with you and your companion anytime.â€

Malcolm nodded formally, â€œDoctor.â€

â€œSo, are your friends going to be emerging from their wedding isolation soon? I hear it will be just a few days from now.â€

Malcolm nodded.

â€œSome honeymoon, eh, in a converted cargo bay,â€ he said.

Lesilia smiled.

â€œOh, I donâ€™t know. I think itâ€™s romantic. After all, itâ€™s not where you go, itâ€™s who you are with. My husband agreed to come with me to an out colony so I could research visionary painters. It was a lovely gesture.â€

At that moment, Malcolm felt truly sorry for her loss.

â€œAgain,â€ he said, â€œIâ€™m so sorry about your husband.â€

Tears welled up in her eyes. So, Malcolm thought, Ikkarens cry much like humans do.

â€œMe too,â€ she said, â€œHe doesnâ€™t deserve whatever is happening to him. If he is still alive. . â€œ

Malcolm too her hand in his.

â€œYou must love him very much.â€

He expected an immediate response. A nod. Some kind of affirmation. But she was still.

â€œEveryone loves Thoren,â€ she said, â€œHe was a hero. He is a hero.â€

Something didnâ€™t quite sit well with Malcolm. But he brushed it off as a glitch in the universal translator.

******

Jay and Travis ate breakfast in the mess hall with Hoshi. To Jayâ€™s relief, Hoshi didnâ€™t bring her rumored significant other, Major Hayes. Jay liked him well enough, but she wasnâ€™t in the mood to eat with her commanding officer. It was still hard to keep food down, and she didnâ€™t need any more tension. Still, she couldnâ€™t resist sticking her nose in just little bit.

â€œSo, how are things with you and the Major,â€ she asked.

Hoshi was used to this question by now. Butting in was now the shipâ€™s primary entertainment.

â€œGoing well,â€ she said, â€œOf course, weâ€™re hardly moving as fast as you two. Or should I say you three? Have you felt any kicks yet?â€

â€œSome fluttering,â€ said Jay, â€œBut I think sheâ€™ll be a big kid. Her dad and I are both tall.â€

Hoshi noticed that the once caffeine-addicted Jay drank only tea.

â€œIâ€™ve heard the Captain is spending lots of time with the transport captain. Sheâ€™s the one with the dark hair,â€ said Travis.

â€œTheyâ€™ve been sticking together like glue,â€ said Hoshi, â€œI think its kind of sweet. They have the same basic job - and sheâ€™s really nice. I havenâ€™t talked to her as much as her sister. Probably because she is always with the Captain.â€

Travis leaned forward and grinned.

â€œCrewman Richards is responsible for cleaning my quarters. He said that the dark-haired Ikkaren hasnâ€™t been in her own quarters very much. She didnâ€™t sleep there last night.â€

â€œNow, now,â€ said Hoshi, who couldnâ€™t help thinking it was unfair that women got flack for being gossipy. The men on this ship were just as good at it.

â€œBut the other one, the light-haired one,â€ said Jay, â€œSheâ€™s been hanging around with Malcolm. I saw them in the turbo lift together. They looked friendly.â€

â€œExcept that sheâ€™s the married one,â€ said Hoshi, â€œRecently married . .â€

Travis shook his head.

â€œOuch. Double ouch. Sheâ€™s awfully pretty. . . not as pretty as you,â€ said Travis as he winked at his wife, â€œbut Malcolm does strike me as the kind of guy who would go for the unattainable.â€

â€œWell,â€ said Hoshi, â€œSheâ€™d better not break Malcolmâ€™s heart or sheâ€™ll have to answer to me. . .â€

****

Jon woke up in his quarters and turned over to find Porthos was staring at him. Great, he thought. Last night must have been a dream or a hallucination. Then, he heard the shower was on. He sat up and admired Essiliaâ€™s silhouette in his shower. Ikkarens were awfully - willow-y.

She noticed he was a awake and turned off the water.

â€œMarvelous invention. A shower of water!â€ she exclaimed, â€œWe only take baths. I canâ€™t believe no one ever thought of this. Some of the spas on Ikkaria have something like this - with jets of water coming up from the floor - but itâ€™s considered a luxury.â€

She emerged from the shower, totally naked. Ikkarens werenâ€™t shy, thought Jon. Or maybe it was just that this Ikkaren wasnâ€™t shy.

â€œGood morning,â€ he said.

She dried herself off with a towel and came forward and kissed Jon on the lips. It wasnâ€™t too light or too hard, thought Jon. No, it was just right. She also patted Porthos on the head.

â€œIâ€™m thinking of taking your advice and taking Enterprise to one of the Northern colonies,â€ said Jon, â€œAnd weâ€™d be happy to ferry any more stray refugees we find along the way.â€

Essilia sat on the edge of the bed.

â€œDonâ€™t offer to do it for free,â€ said Essilia, â€œAs generous as your species is, that wonâ€™t endear you to anyone. And it will look to the Greys like are taking sides. But if you accept payment - well, then, no Ikkaren will quibble with that. Not even the Greys. Besides, Iâ€™ll wager youâ€™ll need all the supplies you can get.â€

Jon smiled at her. It was going to be useful to have a local guide, at least for awhile. He didnâ€™t venture to hope that Essilia would stay on Enterprise permanently, but he bet that she would stay until the political situation on her home world sorted itself. For her sake, he hoped the situation would end soon - for his sake, he hoped it would be prolonged.

â€œCare to join me for breakfast?â€ asked Jon, â€œOne of the perks of the captaincy, breakfast in private.â€

â€œOf course,â€ said Essilia, â€œIâ€™m amazing at the amount of options you humans have for breakfast. Food is important to Ikkarens, but we would never dream of eating anything sweet before the afternoon.â€

The two both got up, got dressed and headed off to the captainâ€™s mess.

***

On the last day of her honeymoon, Tâ€™Pol opened her eyes. Since the pon farr had subsided, she had meditated every night and felt her emotional control return to the levels it had been in the weeks before the wedding. It was a blessed relief to feel normalcy returning.

â€œLast day,â€ said Trip, who had noticed she was awake.

â€œIâ€™ll be happy to return to my regular duties,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, â€œAs I suppose you will. The engines will benefit from your return, I am sure.â€

Trip got up and poured himself some coffee. While he was at it, he made tea for her.

â€œI suppose if anything really interesting had happened, we would have heard about it. Iâ€™m guessing it was nothing but smooth sailing while we were gone.â€

Tâ€™Pol stretched and pulled the covers around her body.

â€œI believe Iâ€™ll go for one more swim before we return. I am glad the captain had this pool installed.â€

Trip thought of asking her how she was feeling, just to make conversation. But he didnâ€™t need to ask he already knew she was fine. Even happy in her Vulcan way.

â€œI think heâ€™s been dreaming of that pool since we first left space dock. . .what was it, almost three years ago?â€

Trip shook his head. Even though it hadnâ€™t technically happened yet, it seemed like a lifetime ago. He thought of how little he had cared for Vulcans back then. And how he had thought that having Malcolm and a compliment of weapons aboard was just a precaution. How naive he had been. He certainly wouldnâ€™t, couldnâ€™t have thought that he would wind up married to the stuck up Vulcan who had irritated him so completely on their first mission.

He watched Tâ€™Pol tip toe to the water and wade into the pool. She was breathtaking, and he felt very lucky.

Meanwhile, Tâ€™Pol thought of the doctorâ€™s belief that she would be most likely to conceive a child during her pon farr. Thus far, she hadnâ€™t felt any changes in her body, but it was quite early. She would know soon enough.

The child would only be half Vulcan, she thought. And only half human. Would he or she be able to forge an identity aboard the ship? Would the other children accept a not fully human playmate? Would the child need to embrace logic, or would his or her human side temper his emotions?

Tâ€™Pol thought that had they not been thrown back in time, she never would have embarked on such a dangerous endeavor. But it was illogical to think that way, as she had already moved forward. And Trip would be a good father. He understood her better than any human ever had - and no doubt he would understand the child as well.

Trip thought of joining Tâ€™Pol in the pool, but he didnâ€™t. He was enjoying watching her swim and feeling the cadences of her thoughts trickle through his head. This telepathy stuff was going to make life interesting, he thought. And he would never forget her birthday or their anniversary.

****

Malcolm knocked on the door of Lesliaâ€™s quarters. He was going to take her to lunch in the mess hall. They had dined together a few times already, but the hadnâ€™t done so the previous day. And had only had breakfast the day before that. No, it was all feeling very friendly - and nothing more than that.

Suddenly, the deck plating bubbled up beneath Malcolmâ€™s feet. He was thrown back into the far wall. Lesilia opened the door and reached out to pull Malcolm into her quarters, away from the metal bubbling that was so dangerous.

The Captainâ€™s voice came over the loud speaker.

â€œIt looks like weâ€™ve hit a big wave of anomalies. Everyone should stay put where they are unless they are deemed essential. Sit down and sit tight. We should be through this in a few hours.â€

Malcolm sat on the floor of Lesiliaâ€™s quarters, and she sat on the edge of her bed. Malcolm noticed she had even hung a small Ikkaren painting on the wall. That was quick. But then again, she was an art historian. She must have carried things like that with her.

â€œLooks like your stuck here. ..for awhile,â€ said Lesila.

â€œLooks that way,â€ said Malcolm.

â€œAre you comfortable on the chair, or would you rather get up?â€

She gestured to a chair that was in the corner. It was a tight fit. She hadnâ€™t exactly been given premium quarters. Malcolm slowly pulled himself up and into the chair. Outside, he heard the sounds of metal clanging. Hopefully, everyone had secured themselves.

Lesilia lay down on her bed, facing Malcolm.

â€œSo, do you know any card games?â€ said Malcom.

She stared blankly.

â€œYou donâ€™t have card games in your culture?â€ said Malcolm,

â€œNo,â€ she said, â€œWe have games, though.â€

Then, there was silence. Just an eerie, awkward silence with the banging and echoing of the anomaly in the background. Malcolm wanted to say something, but he couldnâ€™t think of something to say that wasnâ€™t awkward or too inquisitive. Lesilia also wanted to say something, but she didnâ€™t want to offer too much of herself to this stranger - a man of a race she knew nothing about - even though her instincts told her to trust him.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour, she spoke.

â€œSo, your accent is slightly different from the rest of the crew. I assume your from a different region than the rest. . .â€

â€œIâ€™m British,â€ said Malcolm, â€œIâ€™m from a small island near one of the larger continents. And Iâ€™ll have you know that the language that we all speak - Earthâ€™s dominant language -originated on that island.â€

With that, Malcolm told Lesila all about the history of England and Briton. How that small island that had been invaded over and over again and then eventually conquered a quarter of the planet. He didnâ€™t shy away from the gory details or how he was both proud of his countries many accomplishments and ashamed of its atrocities.

â€œNo matter what the planet,â€ said Lesilia, â€œThe perils and pleasures of empire remain the same.â€

She told him about Ikkaria and its own violent history. How a movement toward fair trade and high end production had until recently produced a stable, unified society - until the borders of their world had stretched so far that some Ikkarens thought their culture was going to be dangerously diluted.

Before Malcolm realized it, three hours and had passed and the all clear came over the loudspeaker.

â€œWell,â€ said Lesilia, â€œI wager youâ€™ve had quite enough of my company.â€

â€œNot remotely,â€ said Malcolm, but he nevertheless headed for the door.

****

Trip stared across the table in the captainâ€™s mess. The dark-haired alien woman with the strange fingers seemed awfully at home with the captain. Heâ€™d only been gone a week, and it appeared Archer had gone and found himself a girlfriend. He glanced over at Tâ€™Pol to see what she thought, but of course her face was nothing but a blank. He even tried to read her mind, but it appeared that Tâ€™Pol was neither surprised at the captainâ€™s actions or interested in his love life. She seemed to just think this was - expected.

â€œSo, Jon tells me that your people embrace logic above all else,â€ said Essilia, â€œThereâ€™s a similar cultural movement on Ikkaria, though it has never become dominant. My sister knows more about them - they produced a geometrically abstract art movement sometime in the last century.â€™

Jon smiled. It was nice not to feel like a third wheel for once.

â€œEssiliaâ€™s sister is also aboard. Sheâ€™s a professor of art. Or she was, before the coup.â€

â€œThere are universities in the outer colonies,â€ said Essilia, â€œSo Iâ€™m sure sheâ€™ll find a position if it turns out the new regime is permanent.â€

â€œHer sister looks just like her but with different coloring. They are identical twins, but Ikkarenâ€™s develop pigmentation after they are born based on environmental factors.â€

â€œIâ€™ve heard of species with that trait,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, â€œThank you again, captain, for having the swimming pool built in the cargo bay. I believe it will be an excellent source of recreation for the crew.â€

Jon smiled. No doubt she and Trip put it to good use over the last week. Both of them seemed very relaxed and happy.

â€œIf you ever do visit Ikkaria, there are magnificent hot springs on the northernmost continent. Fire and ice, they call it.â€

Trip was studying the Ikkaren woman, trying to figure out if the captain was right in trusting her. She seemed all right, but he wasnâ€™t sure he wanted Enterprise embroiled in another species internal political struggles - no matter if the captainâ€™s new girlfriend was one of them.

After they had said goodnight, Trip and Tâ€™Pol headed back to their new quarters. They were actually her old quarters with a door cut through to the next space over. It still wasnâ€™t big, but two people would be fine for awhile. Three, well thought Trip, weâ€™ll deal with that when the time comes.

â€œSo, what to you think of her?â€

â€œShe seems pleasant enough,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, â€œand the captain seems to like her.â€

Trip waited for more elaboration. But then he remembered that Vulcans donâ€™t gossip. He sensed that Tâ€™Pol simply trusted the captainâ€™s judgement, and if that judgement proved wrong, well they would have to deal with it. It was a good attitude, and he decided to try and share it with her.

She sat down on the edge of their new sofa, which was really an adapted bed from the new space and lit a candle. He sat next to her and gently put her hand in his.

_You can hear me right?_

_Of course._

_Still getting used to it._

_Weâ€™ve plenty of time._

******

The next morning Trip headed off to breakfast, alone. Tâ€™Pol had some work to do, so he decided to let her eat in their quarters while she went over some data scans. As fun as the honeymoon had been, he was glad to be getting back to engineering and glad to see everyone again.

He grabbed a tray of food and spied Malcolm in the corner. He was sitting at a table with a woman that looked exactly like the captainâ€™s girlfriend, except her coloring was different. It must be the sister, he thought, and it looked like Malcolm is doing well with her. Did everyone get a girlfriend while I was gone?

Malcolm beckoned him to his table.

â€œTrip Tucker....this is Lesilia, one of our Ikkaren guests,â€ said Malcolm.

â€œI think I met your sister last night,â€ said Trip, â€œAt dinner with the captain.â€

Trip sat down. He shook the young womanâ€™s hand, though it was hard to grip with those long fingers of hers.

â€œI think my sister has dined with your captain every night since we have been aboard,â€ said Leslia.

â€œThey seem to be getting along,â€ said Trip. He caught the young alien womanâ€™s eye. He recognized immediately that she recognized what â€œgetting alongâ€ was a euphemism for. Trip was left wondering how well she and Malcolm were getting along.

â€œYouâ€™re the art historian,â€ said Trip, â€œYour sister told my wife and me thatâ€™s what you do.â€

â€œI suppose I am still an art historian,â€ said Leslia, â€œThough I guess I am no longer a professor. I received a message that my position has been dissolved by the new government. But that was to be expected. I guess Iâ€™m lucky I wasnâ€™t on Ikkaria when the coup happened. Iâ€™d probably be in prison by now.â€

Leslia sighed.

â€œWell, no matter,â€ she said, â€œItâ€™s best just to look forward. Who knows what the future will bring? It was nice to meet you, Trip, but I must be going. I promised my sister Iâ€™d help her inventory some of the contents of her vessel this morning. Iâ€™ll see you later Malcolm.â€

With that, Leslia slipped away. Malcolm gazed after her, thinking about how graceful Ikkaren women were. His mouth hung open a little bit.

â€œWell,â€ said Trip, â€œIâ€™m gone for a week and you and the captain manage to pick up a pair of twins.â€

Malcolm inhaled deeply then downed some of his coffee.

â€œThat one is married,â€ he said, â€œSad to say.â€

Trip inhaled. Damn, Malcolm had rotten luck with women.

â€œHow was the honeymoon?â€ asked Malcolm.

â€œGreat,â€ said Trip, trying not to allow his voice to ooze pity.

******

Months went by. Jay gave birth to the Enterpriseâ€™s first child, a girl. They called her Aurora. Weeks after that Phlox and Amanda welcomed their first child, a boy. The sound of crying babies became a regular soundtrack for the crew. Most of the Ikkarens had adjusted well to life on Enterprise and gradually made themselves useful. Essilia, especially, made a wonderful guide to various colonies, space stations and planets. Thanks to her, Jon had been able to avoid getting the ship involved in the war but still aid a few refugees here and there.

Tâ€™Pol had found herself pregnant, as the doctor suspected, but she and Trip had not yet told anyone. Due to the long Vulcan gestation period, she wasnâ€™t showing, and she wanted to be sure the hybrid pregnancy was viable before saying anything.

She had, however, been overtaken by morning sickness despite the fact that Vulcan women did not get morning sickness. It was a human thing.

â€œI guess the kid gave it you,â€ said Trip as he tended to his wife, â€œIt must come from my side of the family.â€

She even visited the doctor later that day. He refused to give her anything.

â€œYou know we wish to keep your medication intake at an absolute minimum. I suggest a little neural pressure. It doesnâ€™t just work for insomnia, he said.

Tâ€™Pol got down from the bio bed, thankful at least that her symptoms subsided once she was up and around.

â€œDo you want to know if it is a boy or a girl? Some people donâ€™t want to spoil the surprise.â€

Tâ€™Pol raised an eyebrow.

â€œIt will be a surprise now as much as it would be nine months from now.â€ Phlox had guessed that she would give birth after a year of gestation.

â€œItâ€™s a boy,â€ said Phlox, â€œAnd every day Iâ€™m more confident youâ€™ll carry to term. Just think, the first Vulcan/Human hybrid.â€

Tâ€™Pol rested her hand on her stomach. She felt relief wash over her. Vulcans might not be emotional, but they form highly strong bonds with their children. She did not want to lose her son.

â€œThank you, doctor,â€ said Tâ€™Pol, who headed off to her shift on the bridge.

***

Malcolm rushed into his quarters, and Lesilia followed. He rummaged around his bookshelf.

â€œHere it is,â€ he said, â€œWilliam Blake. He was both a poet and artist, and he integrated the two mediums like no other English poet.â€

Lesilia took the book.

â€œThank you,â€ she said, â€œItâ€™s an amazing world where I can learn the classics of a species from hundreds of light years away....â€

Malcolm cleared his throat.

â€œWell,â€ he said, â€œIâ€™m glad to be able to lend it to you. . .â€

Lesilia shut the door behind her, and she locked it. Malcolm said nothing as she moved toward him and kissed him. He kissed back, pushing aside what a terrible idea this was. It was insane, he thought. No doubt she was just using him. No doubt she was just drowning her grief. . .he couldnâ€™t think anymore after that.

After the blur of their coupling, he lay naked next to her and stared at the ceiling. She also stared.

â€œIâ€™m sorry,â€ he said.

She turned.

â€œWhat for?â€

â€œYouâ€™re husband may still be alive...â€

She laughed.

â€œOh....that. Thoren,â€ she laughed some more.

â€œHe might be alive. And he might be dead. Either way, he was or is a professional soldier. If he is alive, heâ€™s probably enjoying plotting an escape or leading a rebellion. But I donâ€™t want to talk about him. Put him out of your mind....â€

Malcolm reached an arm around her. He knew he was being used, but he didnâ€™t care.

â€œIt must be hard, losing someone you love that way.â€

Lesilia laughed again.

â€œOh, I didnâ€™t love him.â€

Malcolm searched her face.

â€œHell,â€ she said, â€œI liked him well enough. And I was always flattered that he chased me. But I never loved him. Not when we were kids. Not when we were adults. I told him over and over. But he was a military man, and he was used to getting what he wanted. After he arranged my release from the Grey Guard last year, he made a statement to the press about how much he loved me. People went mad for the story. The reporters made up this whole, incorrect narrative about us being in love. Suddenly, the whole world wanted the happy ending to that narrative...and I was just too tired not to give it to them.â€

Malcolm let this bit of information sink into his psyche.

â€œYou must think Iâ€™m the queen bitch of the ages,â€ said Lesilia.

â€œNo,â€ said Malcolm.

Lesilia inhaled deeply.

â€œGood,â€ she said, â€œBecause Iâ€™d hate for you to hate me.â€

******

Time kept passing. Months went on, and everyone settled into their routine. Tâ€™Pol put away her Vulcan catsuits in favor of loser robes, but she was grateful the morning sickness had subsided. Hoshi and Hayes got married, but she insisted that they wait a few years to have children. Essilia moved in with the captain, and nobody said anything. And if anyone wondered about Malcolm and the married twin, they didnâ€™t say anything to his face.

Malcolm had decided things would go one day at a time. He hated himself, but he hoped that word of her husbandâ€™s death would solve their problems. Or perhaps she could just divorce him from afar - those kinds of things were done all the time.

He would lie awake next to her and think about it, even though her husband was nowhere nearby by. Even though she didnâ€™t love her husband, she loved Malcolm. Why did the legal formalities even matter to Malcolm. Lesilia was more his than she had ever been her husbandâ€™s. But deep down, Malcolm was an old-fashioned man. So yes, it bothered him. He thought of all his friends, who had paired off and were starting families. It just didnâ€™t seem fair.

Though, when he looked down into Lesiliaâ€™s yellow eyes, none of that mattered. None of it mattered at all.

*****

The lights are were low in sickbay as Tâ€™Pol lay on a bio bed. She had surrounded herself with candles, her eyes closed in deep meditation.

â€œWhereâ€™s Commander Tucker?â€ said Phlox, not caring if he interrupted her.

â€œIn engineering,â€ she said, â€œBut he will return in plenty of time for the birth. It is hours away.â€

Phlox shook his head. He had delivered hundreds, if not thousands, of humanoid babies. Pain was a part of the process. Most species took medication to kill the pain. Some cultures required the women to suffer through without medication. But Vulcans were the only species he knew that required women to remain silent through the process. Their Vulcan minds were so controlled, but even they couldnâ€™t bury all the pain.

Just then, the captain came into sickbay.

â€œHas the newest crew member arrived?â€ he asked. Tâ€™Pol was behind a curtain, so he could see her.

â€œNo,â€ said Phlox, â€œHours away.â€

â€œMay I see her?â€

Phlox nodded.

Archer peered around the corner. Tâ€™Pol was still fully dressed, but she really looked about to give birth at any moment.

â€œI want you to look at these scans,â€ said Jon, â€œI think we are being followed by a cloaked ship.â€

Tâ€™Pol reached up and took the PADD. She examined the reading for a few moments.

â€œYes,â€ she said, â€œI concur.â€

â€œSo, anything interesting going on with you today?â€

Tâ€™Pol did not respond.

â€œGood luck,â€ said Jon as he headed up to the bridge.

He met Essilia there. She was sure they were being tailed by the Grey Guard. Mainstream Ikkarens did not use cloaking technology, it was banned. But she was sure the energy signature was an Ikkaren one.

â€œHow is Tâ€™Pol?â€ asked Essilia, â€œHas the baby arrived?â€

â€œNot yet,â€ said Jon, â€œHours away. So she had time to look over these scans. She agrees. Weâ€™re being followed.â€

Essilia refrained from rolling her eyes. Tâ€™Pol would always be trusted first when it came to these kinds of things - even if the Vulcan woman was in the middle of giving birth to her son.

â€œLetâ€™s drop out of warp,â€ said Jon, â€œWe might as well see what they want sooner rather than later.â€

Within moments, a Grey Guard commander appeared on the viewscreen.

â€œHow can I help you?â€ asked Jon.

â€œAre you Captain Archer?â€

Jon nodded. â€œI am.â€

â€œWeâ€™ve got some intelligence that says youâ€™ve got a Ikkaren woman aboard. We need to speak with her.â€

Essilia folded her arms. She glanced at Hoshi, who gestured that the Grey Guard commander wouldnâ€™t able to see her from his vantage point. He didnâ€™t know she was there.

â€œHer name is Lesilia. And weâ€™ve come to take her to her husband.â€

****

Moments later, Essilia, Lesilia and Jon sat in his ready room.

â€œI have to go,â€ said Lesilia, â€œIf I donâ€™t, the Grey Guard will think Enterprise is taking sides. It will put everyone on this ship in danger.â€

Essilia smashed her hand down on the desk.

â€œTheyâ€™ve clearly pressed him into service in exchange for finding you. Itâ€™s insane. You have no idea what they are really planning on doing to him or you once you get home. Youâ€™ll be put on display.â€

Lesilia looked out the window.

â€œSo what? I can live with that more than I can live with putting this ship and all its good people in danger. We both knew this was temporary. . .that it was unlikely either of us would stay on Enterprise. Well, now its over for me.â€

Jon and Essilia glanced at each other. They had been discussing permanence for some time.

â€œItâ€™s for the greater good,â€ said Lesilia.

Jon sighed. The greater good was a part of Ikkaren culture. They simply didnâ€™t put the needs of the one over the needs of the many. He guessed that Essilia would respect her sisterâ€™s decision.

â€œWell,â€ said Jon, â€œAt least let me offer to take you to Ikkaria on Enterprise. I donâ€™t like you transporting over there alone.â€

Lesilia waved her long fingers.

â€œNo,â€ she said, â€œbut if youâ€™d be willing to escort me in a shuttle, Iâ€™ll take you up on that.â€

â€œWill do,â€ said Jon.

***

A few hours later, Malcolm, Jon, Essila and Lesilia took a shuttlepod to the Ikkaren craft. They docked and were immediately greeted by the Commander. Jon was friendly as he introduced himself. Even though he was terribly worried about his defacto sister-in-law, he wanted these Ikkarens to know that his ship was trying to remain neutral.

â€œIâ€™m glad you are joining us,â€ said the Commander to Lesilia, â€œHow long until the rest of you depart?â€

Essilia stepped forward.

â€œWeâ€™ll depart when Iâ€™m certain my sister is safe.â€

Malcolm said nothing. He exercised every single bit of British emotional control he had. He hadnâ€™t even had time to be alone with her, for one second. He had been summoned to the shuttlepod. The next thing he knew, he was escorting her away from the ship. There had been no time for a goodbye.

He had thought he would feel heartbreak, but instead he felt anger. She didnâ€™t love Thoren and it wasnâ€™t safe for her to return to her home world. Why would she make such a stupid gesture? The Enterprise could outgun any Ikkaren vessel. They were of no threat. Why didnâ€™t the captain make her understand that?

Just then, Thoren appeared in the corridor. He was wearing a Grey Guard uniform.

Lesilia said nothing.

â€œSo your a turncoat?â€ said Essilia, â€œWhat did they promise you?â€

Thoren was tall and thin. He had coloring similar to Essilia, with dark hair. He remained silent.

â€œLeave, all of you,â€ said Lesilia.

Malcolm heard sadness in her voice. She didnâ€™t want to go, so why would she? She couldnâ€™t have any more loyalty to him, now that he had abandoned her cause? Could she?

Malcolm saw Thoren reach for a weapon. He lifted it, but he appeared to have no target in mind. He reached for his phase pistol but before he lifted it - he saw Lesilia drop to the floor. Her yellow eyes were open, but expressionless.

Malcolmâ€™s hand shook and he just wanted to fire. But there were at least ten weapons pointed at him and the others.

He looked over at Essila, who had gone pure white. No color remained in her lips. or eerily, in her eyes. Those eyes rolled back, and she fainted into the captainâ€™s arms.

Thoren shrugged.

â€œThe media wanted a happy ending to our story, but Iâ€™ll wager her tragic death at the hands of meddling off worlders will sell even better.â€

Malcolm pointed his phase pistol at Thoren. But he knew, if he fired, he would die. That didnâ€™t matter. But he couldnâ€™t make the same decision for the captain or Essilia. He lowered his weapon.

â€œGo back to your ship, Captain,â€ said Thoren.

****

Essilia came back to consciousness in the shuttle for just a moment, then returned to sleep. Malcolm took the controls of the shuttle so his captain could console the woman who had lost her only sister, her twin. Malcolm couldnâ€™t imagine what that would be like.

He was in pain of course, but it was hollow. It had all happened so quickly. It didnâ€™t seem real.

Just then, Hoshi rang on the comm.

â€œJust so you know,â€ she said, â€œWeâ€™ve got a new crew member. A boy, with pointed ears like his mother. Everybody is healthy.â€

Malcolm took a deep breath. Numbness engulfed him. The only thing he knew was that he welcomed it.

â€œTell Trip and Tâ€™Pol congratulations,â€ said Jon. He made no mention of the events on the Ikkaren ship. There would be time for that later.

â€œAre you okay, Malcolm?â€

Malcolm steered the shuttle toward the launch bay.

â€œFine, sir,â€ said Malcolm.

Both men knew that was a lie.


End file.
